The journey of the broken hearts
by Wildweasel
Summary: After a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.
1. Faith

**A/N:** Okay, this is a first for me. It's going to be only romance with maybe a bit of adventure and surely some comfort. I hope you'll like it.

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

**Warning****: **Some spoilers from coming episodes.

**Summary:** After a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

* * *

_This story is for AiP and all SMacked fans out there._

_...Have Faith in our show people..._

She looked at the window, somehow expecting to see him, which was crazy, since she was at the thirteenthstory. A small smile grazed her lips. She had to admit he had intrigued her last night as he had entered her office. Stella closed her eyes, remembering his way to step into her own space, his breath inches of her face, and then that cocky smile he had given her, which had become usual with him lately. She sighed, she didn't mind, in fact, although it was a bit new to her. She frowned. She wondered if it was related to his last dates. It's true that he seemed more at ease and playful than usual, but then, his dating time hadn't remained very long. As Aubrey had passed in a flash, Peyton had come back, and she had seen how his mind had been dragged back into some dark corners of his mind and some more cheerful, probably pondering about the new avenue her arrival had reopened.

But then, Peyton had left again. Stella sighed. Hurting her friend even more. It hadn't surprised her at all. The ME wasn't known to be very constant in her life, neither with her love interest in Mac. But this time, it was Mac that had surprised her. Instead of brooding more and shelling back into work mode, he had seemed to cope better. Even if he was still hiding some deep scars, she could feel that somehow he had grown up from all this. Maybe even healed a bit as he was now smiling more often, or was it just her imagination?

But then, his smiles had disappeared this week, replaced by a deep frown that hadn't left his face until yesterday. She was about to leave when he had entered her office with that new smile, but she suspected this one was plastered only for her. She could still see the concern lingering deeply inside the gleaming, ocean pool of his eyes when he had spoken.

"_Ain't you done for tonight?"_ he had asked, trying to take an amused look. She had smiled, thankful for his commitment to pull a brave face before coming to see her, though she could see that something was really bugging him. For a moment she had even wondered if he had finally come to talk about it.

"_Yes, I'm calling it a night, and I won't think about work before Monday." _She had answered quickly, hoping none of their phones were going to buzz for a new case. No this weekend she intended to rest and unwind, nothing else.

"_Wow, I'd like you to give me your potion for that. Can become handy."_ He had smirked. His hands were lazily stuffed in his pockets. Quietly, he had left the threshold to lean against the salmon wall before her. _Yep, obviously he wanted to talk,_ she had noticed, seeing his large frame taking more support on the wall.

"_Yeah, like you could think of something else than work,_" she had quickly replied without realizing her words had left her mouth. He had flinched lightly under her words. _Did I hurt him?_ She had wondered. Though it was true. She had never seen him doing anything else but work. There was nothing wrong by stating a simple fact. So why had she felt so guilty then?

He had sighed. _"I guess, I deserved that one,"_ he had whispered with bitterness.

_"Mac, I didn't mean that..."_

_"It's okay Stell,"_ he had cut her shortly, raising his palm. _"What are you going to do with your day off and this big weekend coming?" _He had asked, changing the subject. She smiled, remembering how his brows had quirked in wonder. _"Kinda a very long time." _He had added.

A grin had spread over her face. _"Well, probably three full days of shopping and leisure, or maybe something absolutely meaningless I guess, I don't know yet. What about you?"_ she had known then, that he too had taken a day off just before this big weekend. What a work alcoholic like him could do with three full days of no work related?

He smiled lightly. _"Well, I planned a little trip, maybe, depends..."_ his voice hesitated as his green, ocean eyes shone with a new light and locked with hers.

_"Depends? Of what?" _she had been curious. What kind of trip Mac Taylor could do when he was off? Hum, visiting family maybe, as dedicated to his family and friends as he was he had to do something meaningful. The clear opposite of the things she had planned for herself.

_"Mostly with who, you mean?"_ he had whispered with the tip of his lips.

_"Huh, so you're planning a little trip with...a date?"_ Inwardly she had cringed at the word._ Does it mean he had found someone that fast?_ What was really happening to her friend? And why was she bothered that much? Mac had the right to be happy. She should be happy for him. But somehow she couldn't go with the idea that it was good for him. She clenched her jaw, waiting for him to spit the name that would keep her awake for the next week or so.

_"Huh..."_ he had racked his throat and had carefully paced her office._ "...actually I was wondering if you would accompany me? I know you have other important things to do on this big weekend. I just wanted to show you something. I mean if you're not too busy I would..."_

_"Are we talking conference or extra case to work?"_ she asked wondering why he seemed suddenly so nervous for asking that to her. They had already done things together, though not for three days in a row, and it had always been work related, but yet. She smiled, so maybe he was loosening up a bit.

He had stopped looking at her, and for a moment she would have sworn she had seen a glimpse of anxiety in his green, ocean eyes. He had frowned. _"Do you want it to be?"_ He had asked as if he was not sure of her answer.

_"Huh, I think I'm done with work this week if you don't mind,"_ she had said with regret. Clearly, it was work related then. No, even if she liked to spend some time with him, she really wanted to unwind this weekend. But then, his answer had surprised her again.

_"It's not work related,"_ he had let out with a soft smile, almost relieved she hadn't asked for it.

That was a first, she realized. Mac Taylor going to a long weekend without it being work related. What was that about? Now he had really intrigued her. _"Then, count me in,"_ she had exclaimed with more joy that she thought she would, though it seemed her enthusiasm earned her a warm smile from him as his face softened. Obviously he had counted on her since the beginning, but hadn't been sure she would say yes..

_"Then, grab your gear, we'll leave tomorrow first thing in the morning,"_ he had said, exiting her office with a smile.

Grabbing her purse, and closing her office, she had followed him as he was heading to the elevator. Then, as both had waited in front of the shining doors, she had carefully observed him._"Gear?"_ she had asked, bemused by his sudden cocky expression she had come to love.

_"Casual clothes,"_ he had added as they had stepped inside the elevator.

Casual? That too, was new for him. First it wasn't work related, and now informal. Her brows had creased, wondering what was going on with him? _"Where..."_ she had started, but as the doors had opened on the parking lot, he had given her a boyish grin, sealing his lips and had climbed in his Avalanche. Leaving a wondering Stella to go to her car and wishing that it was already tomorrow.

She smiled, wondering if finally it wasn't time for her to make a move towards him and reveal what her heart had preciously concealed for so many years now. _What does he have in mind?_

_I have something to show you,_ he had said, with sparkles in the eyes. What was that thing he wanted to show her? Stella glanced again at the window, her excitement growing at the perspective of discovering a new side of her partner. Yes, maybe time had come to tell him the truth. Maybe it was time she really opens her heart.

**xxx**

The shining dawn gently streaked out her salmon arms to embrace the stirring city. As usual for this hour, the long file of yellow cabs was already working its way through the city to embark its feverish clients to their much needed destination. Mac glanced at the already dense traffic, glad he had made it through before the morning rush. In fact, he had arrived much sooner than what he had told her. Probably his anxiety, he realized. Hell, it was a first for him. Well not as a guy, but for what they were going to do, he knew that he was going to surprise her, and somehow, he couldn't say he had slept last night. Not like he really slept a lot anyway.

He sighed as he looked at his watch, wondering if he was right to call her. It was too late to back down now that he had proposed her to come with him. He cursed, not able to shake that feeling of dread that had wrapped his tentacles around him since the end of last week. That Friday he had realized he had almost lost her, again. Then, the following weekend had been spent in torment, wondering if he should call her. He had needed to know if she was okay, but then he didn't want to seem as if he was spying on her. So, in final he had sent her that short text, knowing that she would probably think that he was nuts, but he had to ask if she was okay. But then, not sure how she would take his interest for her, he had instead opted for a question about work, asking where she had put The Lessers' case. He knew she had it in her office, and she would probably tease him on Monday about his mind being on work when it was the weekend and he should rest, but at least, by her answer, he would know she was okay.

And that had been the only news he got from the whole weekend. He shook his head as to shave away that terrifying image he couldn't erase from his mind. Every time his thoughts drifted back to that day, he could see her, lyingdead in her own blood. He let out a heavy sigh, remembering those awful stitches on her arm as a painful statement of what destiny had almost taken from him, again. He swallowed the hard lump in his throat, his mind replaying that fateful scene again and again. He couldn't shake the idea that if he had arrived just few seconds later, she might have ended at the morgue, with more than a little scar. He closed his eyes, the scene as vivid in his memory as if it had happened yesterday.

As always when they entered a crime scene, he had checked with the uniforms on duty to know if the place was clear. _Yes,_ had answered the young cop, _the place is safe, Sir. _He rubbed his face with his hand and let it lingered over his mouth. No, that day, the place hadn't been safe, far from it. As usual, Stella had remained in the main room, focusing her attention on the shattered glass on the floor near the DOA. In the meantime, he had searched the bathroom for eventualtraces of struggles. Finding nothing he had come back to the main room in time to see that shape sliding out of the closet and raising a long butcher knife towards his partner's back.

His blood had instantly run cold in his veins. _"Stella,"_ he had yelled, in pure panic. In slow motion, she had glanced over her shoulder and plunged to the ground on time to avoid the lethal blade. Few seconds later, the cold blade had biten her right forearm and her aggressor had raised the deadly weapon a second time to strike. But this time, he was already on the guy and with the force of his run, he had slammed him on the ground. Without thinking, his fists had collided with the guy's head, again and again. It was like pure rage had flown through him. He remembered, he was so angry that he had not even felt the blade slashing his shirt in different places. No, his mind had focused on the face of this deadly foe who had dared to touch his partenr. He had punched and punched, until he had been pulled from behind.

He shook his head, even then, his rage had been so high he had shot furious glare at who had dared interrupted him, until he had finally recognized it was Flack. Then, his eyes had rested on the man he had used as a punching ball. The guy was rasping loudly on the floor, his nose and lips bleeding, and frankly, he hadn't cared at all if had killed him. Sat on the floor, and his back against Flack's chest, Mac had pushed on his legs to stand. But his friend's arms had wrapped around him as to stop him from moving, and he had kept him still on the floor. He remembered clearly his friend's whispering to his ear. _She's okay, Mac. She's okay._ Then, his sight had searched for her, for Stella. Only when he had found her, his heart had started to beat again, and his blood to flood his brain and made him think. His rage had then subsided to be replaced by the somber realization of what he had just done. His eyes had widened at his bloody work; he had almost beaten the guy to death, though at the time, it wasn't really his concern. The only important thing was Stella being okay.

But then, he had crossed her scared eyes, and had wondered what she was going to think of him after his demonstration of uncontrolled violence. He had swallowed hard as she had kneeled before him, her hand before her mouth in worries. Sure, she couldn't appreciate having a wild beast for boss and friend. He had blinked before his sight went to her bloody wrist. The cut wasn't too deep, he had quickly analyzed and seeing how she was moving, it was hurting, but the blade hadn't gone very deep. He had thanked God for that little miracle, and then he had looked back at her scared, emerald eyes.

_"Call an ambulance,"_ she had yelled as she had looked at him with worries.

Of course, he had thought, seeing how he had beaten the guy, that perpwould probably need to be evacuated with an ambulance. And then his eyes had gone back to her wrist. Although he would make sure she would be taking care of before that bastard. But her next words had surprised him. _"Officer down, hurry."_

_What? _His mind had replayed._ Who? _Then, it had hit him as she was staring with fear at his chest. It's only at that moment he had realized how deep the blade had gone into his chest. He, was the officer down. Curiously he had felt as if all this had been a dream. He hadn't felt a thing, though his torn shirt was smeared with crimson stains every place the blade had slashed through it.

_"Mac, oh God,"_ she had said, her hands automatically pressing over the slashes as Flack had tightened his hold around him to keep him then, the pain had exploded in his chest as he had locked his eyes with hers.

He remembered Flack encouraging words._ "You hanging there buddy, okay?"_while his friend's hands had gripped his smeared vest and shirt to keep him upright. But Stella's glistening eyes were all he could think of. _Why?_ Why could he see tears in her eyes? He was okay.

_"I'm okay Stell,"_ he had whispered as he had felt his adrenaline wearing off and the pain soaring with full force from his chest. It was burning and tearing through his flesh, but he was okay; she was fine. She was still with him and alive. It was all that mattered.

She had tried to plaster a small smile at his cocky reply, but had quickly renounced after he had left his head sag twice, and that she had to lift it to see his eyes.

"_..__bit tired,"_ he had mouthed, apologetically to her.

"_It's okay Mac,"_ he had heard her say, before he had dozed off to reawaken several hours later in the ER, facing a pair of two worried emeralds.

Thankfully, none of his wounds had been really deep. So, after the doc in the ER had cleaned up his wounds, stitched him and bandaged his chest, he had convinced the him to let him out. As Stella had insisted he couldn't drive in his state, she had taken him back home. While the ride, he had noted with anger that she, too, had a white dressing wrapped around her forearm. Although he was glad she has been taken care of, that white fabric had remained the indelible proof of his failure to protect her.

He raised a pair of sad eyes toward the building. No, a week ago, he had almost lost her. For her, he would gladly take any cut or blow that could come her way, hell, he would take a bullet if that could save her life. He sighed. He pulled his cell phone and dialed hers, hoping that at the end of this weekend, they would still be friends. He had taken his decision, and soon he would know if he had been wrong.

"Hey," he spoke lightly, trying to shave away the remorse and sadness from his voice. She could be so disappointed by him in two days. He closed his eyes, and rubbed his forehead, trying to shave away his fears. No, he had to be cheerful. This weekend had to be special, and he wanted her to enjoy herself. It could really be their last happy time together as friends.

"Hey," answered his partner on a more cheerful tone. _At least one of us is cheerful this morning_. "Where are you?" she said her tone now amused and eager to see him.

He smiled. Even with simple words, she would always be able to light up the most darken room. "In the street. Can't come up, I'm not really parked on the right spot, so..."

"Okay, on my way. Stay put handsome," she lightly threw.

A wide grin spread over his lips at the all too, natural answer she had tossed. He smiled, she had probably not even realized she had said that. But anyway, he couldn't suppress a warm feeling at the idea of spending this whole weekend with a woman who had called him 'handsome' without even checking how he was dressed. He chuckled lightly, looking down at the outfit he had chosen for the trip. Surely, she would take it back when she would see him as he had finally opted for casual clothes, his suit long gone.

His gloved fingers wrapped around the handle wondering if she was going to accept her travel condition, or if she would give him a polite excuse; '_sorry, Mac, forgot to do something'_ and then leave him miserably._ C'mon, Mac, _he scolded himself_. It's Stella. She won't find an excuse, when she could tell me the plain truth. _He sighed, wondering if he wouldn't prefer the damn excuse that hearing her saying she had changed her mind. To add to that, he had kept secret their destination, and since he wanted it to be a surprise she would have to wait.

He let out a deep sigh wondering where she was. It has been more than five minutes._She should be downstairs by now._ His sight searched through the people coming in and out of the building. Maybe she had spotted him and was hidden, laughing in a corner, or she was looking for that damn excuse. His anxiety increased again, and his fingers tightened the handles. _What if she says no?_ His blood ran cold. Then, this whole trip would have no meaning. He swallowed, his nervous anxiety still creeping up his mind. _Where are you, Stella?_

Then, as if she had read his mind, here she was; dressed in a pair of tight, navy jeans and wearing her favorite, green, tank top that perfectly highlighted her curves. He smiled. At least, her outfit was perfect for this trip, including the brown knee high boots she had chosen, although seeing the small tiny vest she was holding in her hand, he was thankful he had thought about bringing that extra vest with him. He smiled shyly. Whatever she would have worn would have been perfect anyway.

The ride into the lift had been excruciating too long, like the night she had spent anyway, wondering what Mac was up to. But as soon as she had stepped out of her building, the world around her seemed to disappear in a thick haze. She could only see the one man sitting on his bike as if he had escaped from a road movie. A broad smile had spread over her face at the new side of her partner she was discovering. Until today, she had no clue he had a bike nor that he could ride one. Suddenly, a rush of excitement flooded her being and her mind started to fantasize about that black leather jacket he was wearing and how she could take it off. She grinned widely, trying to walk casually toward him as if her mind wasn't imagining things she shouldn't with her partner. _Get a grip, Stella, it's Mac._ With delight, she noted his sparkling eyes following her curves as she was approaching, while herself took a good look at his appearance. She delighted at the black, cladded jeans he had chosen over his heavy boots and the dark, navy sweater he was wearing under his leather jacket. Few feet from him, she watched as he swang with grace his leg from the other side of his Harley, the bike softly relieved from his weight.

"Hey," he shyly said, his eyes sparkling in amusement.

"I think we already did that," she replied with a warm smirk.

He chuckled lightly as he grabbed her duffel bag and stuffed it in one of the bags flanking his bike. Then, he turned a charming gaze toward her, happy she hadn't run away yet, and since she had accepted he took her bag; he assumed with relief that she had decided to stick with their initial plan.

"You look amazing," he said, hoping he wasn't crossing that invisible barrier they had built a long time ago.

"Thank you," she smiled warmly. "Though, I was right too," she stated with a grin.

"Right?" a light frown creased his face.

"That you are handsome." With delight, she saw Mac blushed lightly and turned to grab something in his bag. A wide grin spread over his face as he turned to her with a brown leather jacket in hand.

His heart pounded hard in his chest as he handed her his old, leather jacket. "You gonna need this," he stated. Then, his chin pointed at the small, summer vest she had in hand. "Kinda cold on the road," he added as to justify his actions.

She frowned. But then, a light smile carved her face. Without a word, she took the jacket. The fabric was worn out, and seemed to have seen years, but it was soft to the touch and she could see that the giant letters carved on the back were long gone. "Was it yours?" she asked in expectations to learn something about her partner.

"Huh, yeah." His hand rubbed awkwardly his neck as to give him some composure. "Had it for a long time before I changed for this one, a few years ago," he said pointing at his own, black jacket.

"Wow, cowboy, I'm not even sitting on your horse that you're giving me your clothes. I wonder what you'd do for our wedding then." She smirked.

"What?" blurted out a crimson Mac. "I'm not... I mean, it's not...Stell," he finally muffled, seeing her hand hiding a laugh.

"C'mon, Mac. You got to give me that. It was nice to see you embarrassed. Doesn't happen that often." She laughed even more.

"Not funny," he replied his brows creased before he started into a soft chuckle on his own. Well, finally, this long weekend could really turn into a good thing. Hopefully, she would keep that smile all along.

Still smiling broadly, Stella slid into Mac's old jacket and zipped it to her neck. Although Mac had larger shoulders, it wasn't too big for her, and she assumed he had probably bought it when he was much younger. Taking a deep breath, she delighted in the sweet scent of his perfume still lingering inthe jacket. Then, he handed her a black, half helmet, and put a similar one on with a boyish smile.

"Ready?" he asked as he slid his black shades over his nose with a charming smile.

"Whenever you want, handsome," she quipped.

With a big grin, he sat on the Harley and took off the leg from the curb, his hands already turning on the engine. He glanced at Stella as the bike roared softly. Shyly, she sat behind him, and a broad smile grazed her lips as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

His heart ready to explode, Mac felt her arms shyly wrapping around him. "Hold on tight," he said, as he stepped on the gear and the bike left the curb where he had parked.

Instinctively, she tightened her hold around her partner, wondering where Mac Taylor was planning to take her. Though right now, he could take her to the other side of the world, as long as she was with him and holding him tight, it didn't really matter.

_**xxx**_

The warm summer sun graced their silhouettes as they finally made it out of the noisy New York. Mac took a road aside the big frequented highway, and the Harley softly vibrated under his command as she was finally able to take a more natural course. He liked riding on deserted roads, and he was glad they were finally out of the Big Apple. He loved New York, but it wasn't the best place to ride his bike. It was mostly why, he was rarely riding it unless, he felt the need for it, like this weekend. He delighted at the scenery slowly changing around them. The tall skyscrapers had quickly been replaced by smaller, brick buildings, followed by private houses, and now he could distinguish the mountains in the horizon.

He hoped, Stella was enjoying the trip as much as he. Though she hadn't really spoken since she had sat behind him, and that silence was making him more nervous. Was she regretting of coming with him? If it was the case, she would have said something, unless she didn't want to hurt him. He sighed. Maybe he should ask her. He cringed in advance at her possible negative answer. Trying to hide as much as he could his growing anxiety, he spoke on a light tone. "You holdin' up?"

"Hadn't plannedgoing on biker this morning when I woke up, but it's great!" she exclaimed from behind him, her voice partly muffled by the strong wind.

Mac smiled, his anxiety quickly fading at her excited words. But his heart skipped once more in his chest as her arms tightened around him, and her head leaned on his back. She surely was trying to enjoy herself, he realized with a smirk. Not that it bothered him, it was even the contrary, as a warm feeling invaded his body and he had to concentrate on the road not to let his mind wandered, and fantasized about his partner. He blushed slightly. Hopefully, she couldn't see his face right now, but it could become dangerous, after all he was the driver. _Right, _his mind warned,_ stay focus, Mac. _

As the wind softly blew on her face, Stella pressed her cheek against Mac's back. She didn't know what was really going on with her partner lately, but she was enjoying this side of his personality. Tightening her hold around his waist, and her ear pressed against his back, she enjoyed feeling his body close to hers. It felt good and somehow right, as if she had always belonged there. She smiled, happy. She could even hear his heart beating, even skipping every time she tightened her arms around him. She smiled inwardly at the effect she was having on him. Until now, she had no idea his heart was beating so fast when she was touching him. Her face became warm, and she knew it wasn't due to the soft, summer breeze, but more to her own blood flushing her cheeks at the mischievous ideas her mind was lingering into, her partner being the center of all her intentions. Then, her smile faded as the bike slowed down and Mac pulled over in front of adiner. With regret, she released her hold on him.

"Let's have a good breakfast before we continue," he said, his leg sliding over the bike.

He pulled off his helmet, and she couldn't suppress a grin at his disheveled hair spiked in disorder. Catching her amused stare, he took off his gloves and quickly brushed back the rebellious strands of hair.

"Always does that," he said shyly. "Are you hungry?" he asked with a warm smile as he gave her his hand while she jumped off the bike.

_Hungry?_ Of course, she was, but maybe not for food, she thought mischieviously, as she grabbed his hand and got off the bike. Mac seemed to notice her trail of thoughts as his own cheeks took a rosy color, before he turned awkwardly toward the diner to hide his face. No, seriously, there was something going on with him, she could bet her life on it.

"Shall we go?" he asked with a big grin as his hand gave her a light squeeze.

Nodding, she followed him as he had kept her hand in his. She smiled at the feeling of possession he was suddenly showing towards her.

The small diner smelled of freshly brewed coffee and fried bacon, noted Stella as they pushed the door. The bell lightly chimed as to announce two more visitors.

"Take a seat," greeted them a tall blond waitress, dressed in white clothing and a pink apronaround her waist.

Mac led them to a small booth in a quiet corner and unzipped his jacket, revealing his dark, navy sweater. Stella smiled at the fabric cladding perfectly his muscular frame, and let her eyes wandered a bit longer over the small V-neck showing his bare skin underneath. She bit her bottom lip, feeling suddenly more adventurous than in the last month, and wondered what was going on with her too? It was Mac, for Godsake, she was with, not some pretty boy chasing her with only one idea in mind. No, with Mac she knew that his mind was filled with so many things, and his heart wounded so many times that for their small escape to become a romantic trip it would take at least an earthquake. She sighed. But she couldn't fault him, after all she had never made her feelings very clear to him. Though now, she was wondering again if this weekend wasn't her opportunity, though if his answer was no, then the rest of the trip would be really awkward. _Then, later,_ she promised herself.

It was still early in the morning, and the sun was starting to grace its warmth through the giant panel window in a thin veil of light. Mac marveled at the light mist lingering between them as Stella had taken the seat right in front of him. He would have preferred her close to him, but having her in front of him was giving him another perspective. He grinned inwardly at the thoughts that invaded his mind as she took off her jacket to toss it on the bench. Her green top was lovely cutting her frame, and he let his eyes praised her beauty when the waitress interrupted him.

"What you guys want?" the young blond asked with a broad smile.

Staring at the menu, Stella answered first. "I'll have the bacon pancakes with a black coffee," she said before she turned to Mac.

"Same," he replied, his face creased with a light frown as he gave his menu to the waitress.

"Wow, are you really planning to eat all this Mac?" quipped Stella. "You gonna be stuffed for the whole week," she teased him.

He glanced at the waitress leaving with their orders, before his sparkling green, ocean eyes rested on Stella. "Funny, miss I'm-eating-an-apple-for-my-diet."

"That was a long time ago," she retorted with a grin.

"Sure," he playfully added. "Last week is a very long time."

"How did you know?" she asked bemused. Since he had surprised her eating only apples for lunch, and had teased her about it, she had made a game to eat them while he wasn't around and couldn't see her. After all, she had sworn she was done with the round fruit. So how did he know that?

"I'm a detective, remember?" he raised a brow. Of course he knew. He had always considered important, anything that could concern her, even from afar, it was his job as a friend to know that. Not that he stalked her or something like that, God, no. But she had always been there for him, and he didn't want to miss the moment when she would need him and he would be too busy to notice her pain. He sighed, though he had done it once, when Jess had died. The view of Danny in that wheelchair had made him lost the sight of what was the most precious thing in his life, his best friend. He had wrongly assumed that looking for their shooters would protect them, forgetting that the danger could soar from within while they had all drifted apart. As the boss, he should have stayed at the helm, not getting involved and let his emotions aside. He should have checked to see that all his friends were doing okay, but he had forgotten how it hurt to lose someone so close, and it had hit him harder than he had thought. The deep burn of loss had bitten to his flesh too. And to cool that burning wound, he had raised more walls around him, hindering him to see his friends in need. He sighed and for that he would never be able to amend himself enough. Somehow, he felt as he had let them all down, including his faithful partner. He sighed as he had done last week, his mind painfully reminded him.

Her lips tightened at the shadow she could see in Mac's eyes. He seemed lost in the depth of his soul, and she could bet it wasn't in a bright shining place right now. "Mac," she called, but her words didn't seem to penetrate his invisible shield. "Mac?" she repeated, but this time, her hand covered his and squeezed it lightly. Then life seemed to flow again in his body as his eyes darted with uncertainty toward her.

"Sorry, I was..." his brows creased. "I was..."

"Very far, I know," she finished for him, her thumb stroking gently the back of his hand. He didn't need to explain himself. She already knew, that, out of guilt, he was probably looking for a way to amend things he falsely thought he had done wrong. She sighed inwardly, in all her life, she had never come across a man like him, always striving to do good. There was nothing he had done wrong. He might have done mistakes along the way but so did she. After all they were all human beings, and what made them better was their desire to do good, especially him and his tenacious love for justice.

His eyes rose on her lovely face bathed by the morning sun and his mind lingered on their quiet touch. It felt good to feel her warm fingers stroking his skin, knowing that she was alive, that the nightmares he had since she had escaped that fateful blade weren't real. Though, they hadn't been new. Every time she had brushed death; with Frankie, her HIV situation, her burning apartment, the greek ambassy; every time then, he had dreamed of her fateful death. And every night, he had woken up in sweats at the sound of his own sobs, and the cold feeling of her dead body cradled in his arms; always crying as he had done so often after he had lost Claire, his heart realizing that he had been powerless to save both.

He cursed, maybe it was why Peyton had left him the first time. He remembered how bitter she had been on several mornings, telling him that he should stop worrying about everyone and start to care for those who were with him. Had he then pronounced Stella's name one night? He closed his eyes, focusing on her delicate fingers caressing his hand. He wasn't dreaming, this was real. She hadn't been killed like Claire. _I haven't lost her too,_ his mind repeated as to make it more real.

"You okay, Mac," Stella whispered almost afraid to wake him up brutally.

He nodded slightly, opening his eyes. His turquoise pools were caught in a bright sunrays and his eyes turned into a pure, blue crystal. She smiled warmly, giving his hand a firmer squeeze as to say that she would be there when he would need to talk. With a small nod, he looked down at their entwinned hands. Whatever was bothering him, hadn't been left at the office, she realized sadly. No, it had to be related to something else. But what was it?

The waitress brought their orders, and they had to break their touch to leave room for the plates. Stella watched with increased worries as Mac picked into his food without a word. "So," she started. She knew that sooner or later he would tell her what was bothering him but for that he needed to be ready, and right now, he seemed he needed a distraction and that, she could provide. "Where are you taking me?"

A small grin immediately lighted up his face as he glanced at her, his eyes sparkling in expectations, and she knew she had hit the right field. But deep down, those turquoise pools she could see that a dark shadow was still waiting to resurface, as it had only been put on hold.

"Can't tell ya right now." He plastered a smile, trying to be more cheerful, and swallowing a piece of pancake. Then, his eyes became very serious and he seemed to stare at her. "Do you trust me?"

His question took her aback as his face looked deadly serious. "With my life, Mac," she retorted with the same serious expression he was giving her.

He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time in days, and the shadow reappeared behind his eyes. _With my life, Mac. _Her words echoed in his mind. Life, he had almost lost by being careless, he cursed inwardly. But her answer had come out of her mouth without hesitation or second thought. He swallowed the somber thoughts his mind had dwelled again on and remembered why he had asked her to come. Time wasn't to dwell on the mistakes of the past. No, he had to talk to her, and hopefully he would have found the right words before they reach their destination.

"We will arrive tomorrow." He saw a light frown appearing on her face. "I thought that today we could enjoy the ride," he finished, hoping she wasn't disappointed.

"Sounds good to me," she finally said as her hand went to gently pat his arm. _But why only today? Why not enjoying the ride tomorrow too? _Was he dreading something when they would reach their goal, wherever it was?

His eyes followed her arm and stopped on the small dressing appearing underneath her sleeve. He clenched his jaw, and tensed, gripping the hold on his fork. The white dressing was like a clear demonstration of his inability to protect her. He had been so close to lose her.

Stella followed his eyes and noted the dark shadow back in his look at the view of her arm. What could possibly bother him? Then, the sudden realization hit her as she saw the white fabric protruding from the green cloth. "Can't even feel it," she said as to answer his unspoken question and reassure him that she was fine.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his eyes trying to find forgiveness in her green emeralds, although he knew he didn't deserve it.

"Accident, Mac. Things happen, right? Besides, I do recall clearly that you needed more stitches than me," she teased, but deep inside she had been worried sick the whole weekend, not knowing if he didn't need her help. After all, once again, he had saved her life. If he hadn't been there, or calling her name, that cold blade would have made bigger damage than the small graze on her wrist

Frankly, she had cursed her big mouth that weekend. She had promised to a friend to help her move her furniture to New Jersey. It had taken them the whole weekend to move everything, while her mind had drifted to Mac. She had assumed he was probably alone in his apartment, brooding because the doc had told him not to work for at least two days. During this time, she had been moving furniture, making small talk, while all she wanted, was to be with him, and be sure he was okay. Thankfully, he had sent that small text, and she had been more than happy to answer back, though it was work related, but then, it still meant that he was okay. It's only on Monday that she had seen him. His face even paler than when he had left the ER had wrenched her heart. She had known then that he hadn't rested of the weekend. Thinking of it, it was since that morning, that he had started to shell back again into his old brooding mode, but this time, sadly, she hadn't been able to make him talk.

"Accident," he nodded not convince by her argument. He had failed her, and that was the only thing he could think of. He sighed, but he knew, he wasn't smiling that much since he had let his thought drifted back to that day. So, he summoned his best charming smile and changed the subject, after all, he wanted this weekend to be special, and he couldn't imagine it to be that enjoyable for her, if he was keeping a brooding face. No, he had to make it up to her. "Then, I can take you anywhere?" he teased, hoping she would get the hint and take on their favorite banter.

She raised her brows, noting immediately his change of attitude. With a light frown, she accepted to change the subject. She didn't want to push him too far if he wasn't ready to speak, and watching him trying to give his best to make her smile couldn't remain unnoticed on her part. "Anywhere," she repeated, receiving a more suspicious look from her partner.

His smile lighted his face. _Anywhere. _His mind played with the idea. Of course, he wasn't going to take her to the other side of the world, but his plan wasn't that far. He grinned inwardly, hoping she would really like their trip.

As he finished his plate, he cuddled his cup of coffee, glancing to catch her sparkling eyes every once in a while.

"What?" she asked playfully after his fifth or sixth glances as she had stopped counting.

"Nothing," he stated innocently. How could he tell her that he was admiring the softness of her skin, or the gracing curves or her face? He rolled his eyes as his cheek lightly flushed, knowing she wasn't going to buy his answer anyway.

"No, Mac there's something. So what? Did I spit syrup on my shirt or what?"

He gave her a shy smile. "Sorry, I was..." he paused, then his eyes sparkled with the sunrays. "...just enjoying the moment," he admitted, his eyes back to his black coffee reflecting his nervous smile. In fact, he was more than enjoying her company. He felt at peace when she was around. She was his rock in the tempest of his chaotic life.

She smiled back. If Mac Taylor was now indulging himself with 'a moment', then, she was really worried. She took a slow breath, hoping that whatever was bothering him wasn't something that bad, and that she would be able to help him. But now, she was starting to wonder.

"Are you done?" his voice came softly, as if he was afraid of disturbing her.

She stared at her empty plate and then at her empty cup too. She smiled, she had been so deep in her thoughts she hadn't seen she had finished a while ago. "Yep, ready," she looked at him and saw him smile again. She really could get use to him smiling that much.

Leaving some bills near his plate, Mac grabbed her hand and watched amused as she blushed at his possessive gesture. "Ready to ride my horse?" he teased.

She stepped closer and her arm brushed his with a small twinkling in her eyes. "Oh, you have no idea, mister," she quipped with a warm smile, her hand lightly resting over his chest as she stood in front of him.

Mac chuckled as she was only inches of him, and he tried awkwardly to hide his beating heart and the warm feeling soaring through his body. _Calm down, Mac. She has no idea what she's doing to you right now? _He took a deep breath and his eyes connected with the mischievous smile he could read in her eyes._ Or did she? _With this dreading question in mind, and not sure he wanted to know right there, he squeezed tightly her hand, and led them out of the diner. He needed air, and they had to keep going, his mind shot as an excuse, and he had to slow down his heart before he died of a heart attack, he added for himself. _Damn it,_ he cursed. If only things had been more simple between them. But he couldn't change the past, no, he could only try to build a future.

Stella smiled beside Mac. The sun was higher now, and its warm rays were starting to heat the landscape before them. Taking a deep breath, she indulged her sight in the beautiful golden fields before her. Or was it because her mood was suddenly feeling adventurous? She had to admit that as a Foster child bred in New York City, she had in rare occasions visited the country, only when her cases allowed her to. But then, it was never really far from New Jersey, and the places had always remained built and crowded, apart from Greece of course. She glanced at Mac, who was keeping a shy smile plastered on his face, his shades back over his nose. Then, his face changed and a boyish grin curved his lips.

"Anywhere," he repeated as he sat on his Harley. Mac gazed at the bike, thinking about the whole possibilities offered by a single word, _anywhere_.

Thinking of it, Stella wondered if she hadn't made a pact with the devil, seeing Mac's wicked grin playing on his lips. But she couldn't take it back now. She gulped lightly. Whatever her partner was up to couldn't be that bad anyway, right?

"Sure," she retorted, putting her helmet on and zipping her jacket. She sat behind him, and found comforting as her arms found their way back to Mac's waist as it was all too natural. She felt him trembling lightly as her hands closed over his chest and pressed lightly his jacket, to keep him firmly against her. His heart skipped, and once again she smiled inwardly of his reaction. Yep, whatever plan he had in mind, she knew how to get the better hand on him now. Her cheeks blushed, and that could become in handy.

Mac swallowed as her arms tightened around him, and he had to fight his body's reaction to focus on the next stop. "Ready," he called, but honestly, feeling as she had snaked her arms around him, he wondered if it was really useful to ask. With her tight hold, she wasn't ready to fall.

"Let's go cowboy," she shouted behind him. Whatever was bothering him, she knew by holding him so tight, that they would overcome it. They were strong together, and together they could face anything.

"Hang on!" he shot back with a big smile. His foot stepped gently on the gear and his Harley pulled slowly from the small parking lot and went back to the deserted road. The shining, summer sun reflected its rays in his shades as Mac looked at his rear-view mirror and gazed at a smiling Stella. _Hold on to me, Stella. I promise you won't regret it._

_...TBC

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**A/N:** Okay, this was meant to be a oneshot but then, our heroes got the better hand of me and now it's gonna be a bit longer. Still don't know how long. Now, thanks for reading and don't forget to let me know what you thought of it.

But anyway, what do you think? Should I continue this?


	2. Holdin' on to you

**A/N:** Okay, so I rated this fic T because I didn't know where this small trip could end, though I'm still not sure yet, but this chapter clearly call for it (and that's not for violence). Now, it's

2 AM, so I hope it works out as intended.

When I wrote this chapter I had a song in mind, so if you look on the net with this title ....CSI-NY - SMacked - 'Parachute'.... you'll listen and watch a good Smacked vid with this song, and will have what I had in mind for this chapter. ENJOY!

So just to warn, be prepared to duck, Smacked fluff ahead, lol.

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

**Summary:** after a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

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Clinging to his chest like a little girl to her teddy bear, Stella surprised herself as she even tried to lean closer. She smiled knowing that it was impossible she had already sat as close as possible of her rider. Her hips were pressed against his butt, his jeans rubbing with hers every time the bike made a stiff turned, and they had to bent slowly. In the last hour, she had enjoyed feeling and hearing his heartbeat being a constant reminder that this wasn't a dream; she hadn't fantasized once more in her bed. No, this time it was real; and even though something was deeply bothering Mac, she also knew that he was having fun too. She smiled, which explained his shy glances in his rear-view mirror to keep an eye on her. Her gaze wandered on the small piece of mirror and smiled back, even though he was now watching the road. It had been a long time, since she had felt this good, and she was glad it happened to be because of him. If they hadn't been on this bike she might even have fallen asleep, but the slow vibration under her, reminded her the reality, and honestly she really enjoyed being awake and had no desire of missing any second of close contact with him.

Her fingers pressed against his chest, holding him tight into her embrace. He couldn't repress a warm feeling invading him. His lips curled upward as he realized how it felt right to be in her arms. He had craved for this since so long that he couldn't remember. Since Claire had died, his world had been more than cold, and some nights, he remembered that if it hadn't been for Stella calling and checking on him or even reminding him to eat and sleep, then, he had no idea of what he would have done. She had always been there for him, and he was grateful for it, and he hoped this weekend, he would be able to show her how much he had appreciated that help before they could talk. His face gave a small pout at the road ahead as his mind listed the possible answers she could give him. For a long time, he had fought what he had assumed wouldn't be right for her. But now, he had made his decision and tomorrow, whatever happens, he would know if he had been wrong or not to keep it secret.

A quick glance at the sun now really high in the sky told him that it was time for another break, but this time he promised himself that he wouldn't let his thoughts drifted away into a gloomy territory. No, for her, he would keep them locked in the depth of his soul, so she could have a great weekend. The long, wide landscape had quickly been replaced by the dark, green forest as he had chosen a more adventurous path to their destination. He wanted Stella to enjoy the ride as much as he did, and the highway wasn't for him the best way, although the shortest. But since she had accepted to go 'anywhere' with him; he smirked at the thought; then, this small forest path should suit both of them.

He knew, that as a Foster child, she hadn't seen a lot of Wildlife. Being tossed from one place to another, never gave you the time to bond with family and make a trip in the country. He sighed, and with her job, he knew that she had rarely discovered what life could be in the wild. Maybe he was a bit arrogant, but he wanted to show her that it could be fun, and well, share something he had discovered when he was a kid with his dad. His lips tight, his thoughts lingered a minute to the memory of his dad and how his parents had always been there for him. He wished Stella had the joy of having the same kind of family he had. Life hadn't been fair with her so far. Her mother had been killed when she was two, her ex-boyfriend had tried to kill her, and that terrible threat of becoming HIV after a case. He clenched his jaw at the memory of her limp body lay on the floor when he had entered her apartment with this gut feeling that something was wrong with her. He let out a deep sigh of anger, if she hadn't killed Frankie in self defense that bastard would have killed her, and he would have lost her. Images of her battered bloody face printed before his eyes. _Why?_ His brain shot in pain, as burning tears threatened his eyes. _Why her, and not me?_ Why was he still alive when the women he loved were either killed or on the brink of disappearing? His hands squeezed the handle and he cursed himself again for wandering in a territory that would render him unable to smile to her and offer her no more than a mere grim pout for the rest of the day. This wasn't what he would have wanted for her, no, she deserved a better life, and she deserved that he gave her more than just a smile sometimes, he swore to himself.

Swallowing back his anger and fear, he took a deep breath and focused his thoughts on the lingering hands that were tightly holding him. Summoning a smile, his mind reminded him how much he wanted this weekend to be special for her, and without noticing it, his left hand left the handle and went to press on hers covering his heart. He swallowed as he felt her hands beneath the glove. She was real, and she was with him. Comforted, his hand went back to its previous position as he headed to small road boarded by giant pine trees.

A few minutes later, he slowed down, and pulled over a small wooden barrack, made in logs; his dark thoughts buried for a private sulk. Taking off his helmet, his sight looked at a small brown board attached on the edge of the roof. He smiled, it was like the first time he had seen it. Almost thirty years ago, that small board had the word diner slowly erased by the wind and rain, the same as today.

"Nothing changed," he murmured for himself, before he started in a big grin. He glanced at Stella, remembering that the last dinner they had stopped was very different than this one. "Still feeling adventurous," he teased with a big grin as he hung his helmet to the bike handle.

He watched with a small anxiety as she took off her own and her gaze was suddenly lost in the dense, green forest surrounding them. Mac followed her gaze among the green trees and couldn't suppress a deep urge of taking a deep breath. He filled his lungs with the moist air of the forest mixed with the scent of fresh, green pines and wood smoke, and smiled. _This is life. _Delighted of being back, he turned nervously to stare at Stella._ Is she going to like it?_

The place was silent, apart from the low discussion engaged between two birds. Stella frowned, she wasn't used at so much silence. Somehow, she was still searching for the low rumble of the traffic which would tell her that she was still on the same planet; but nothing came. Only a faint, warm breeze lifted her light golden curls. The gentle patof Mac's hand on her shoulder surprised her. Even with this silence she hadn't heard him circle the bike and stand beside her. He gave her a warm smile as to apologize for surprising her, and she smiled back.

"Not used to this silence, Mac," she stated a bit shyly, her brows still creased. "And I thought my apartment was too silent at night." This was kinda new for her, and she wondered if she was going to get used to it.

With a warm smile tugged at his lips, Mac slid his hand in hers and gently squeezed it. "C'mon, City Girl. Let's buy something to eat."

She raised an amused smile toward him. "Wow, you're gonna eat twice a day? Be careful or you're gonna get used to it, Mac," she teased as she marvelled of his familiar way of taking hold of her hand every once in a while, as if he was afraid she would run away. She wanted to tell him she was going to stay, no matter what, but the perspective of his hand lingering in hers longer was too attractive to break the spell. Instead, she sealed her lips and graciously followed him.

"Well, I had a good teacher," he continued, her hand firmly nestled in his as he pushed the door open. He took a deep breath. He felt more relax when he could feel her fingers in his, and he had to admit, it gave him a comforting feeling of reality; that she was alive. It was easier then, to push away those dark images of her lying dead. He shook his head and focused his mind on the warm hand in his. _Only cheerful, Mac, remember, cheerful._

As she followed Mac inside, the old scent of smoke mixed with the damp ground immediately assaulted her nose. Stella looked around wondering if people were really eating in that gloomy place and realized that it was more like a store, though a couple of chairs had been lazily placed in a dark corner, and the tiniest table she had ever seen was set next to it. She gave a look of surprise to Mac, but he seemed amused and grinned as he stepped to the counter.

"Hey, how' ya doin'?" threw a tall guy with a messy, brown beard, exiting from a back door. He put aside the big cigar he had in the mouth, although, noted Stella, he wasn't smoking at all. _Probably chewing it.__ That can't be healthy._

Mac smiled and saluted the seller. "We will need two canes, and one of your fishing packs," asked Mac. "Some smoked meat you have over there, cream cheese, the bag of bagels, and the packs of soda too." Then, he glanced at Stella, eyeing her frame as if he was thinking at something. A big grin suddenly lighted up his face and he pointed at something near the seller. "I'll need a pack of those two," he said, his eyes sparkling towards Stella.

She frowned, wondering what new idea had come up in his mind as she stepped closer. Unfortunately, his order was already stuffed in a big, paper bag, and he was carefully putting it aside.

"You need something, Stell?" he called with a soft smile as she tried to peep inside the bag.

"Huh, maybe some fruit too," she asked looking around the dark place. Though she had doubts this place had much choice as in a supermarket.

Mac smiled. _Of course._ "Apples, right?" He gave her a small complicit wink, referring at their previous conversation.

She nodded with a smile. "Well, you know me, got to follow my diet," she quipped, remembering to keep a check on his food too, after all she owed him one, right?

The seller looked at Stella then at Mac, a deep frown carving his face. "Sorry guys, but I don't have those, though I have some dried cranberries if you're up to?"

Mac glanced at Stella and as she agreed, the seller added it to their bag and gave him his note. Mac handed him a handle of green bills.

"You guys ain't from here, right?" the seller asked a bit amused by the complicit look his clients hadn't stopped exchanging. _Ah, lovers._

"Haven't been here for a long time," confessed Mac as he grabbed the bag.

Stella turned to him a surprise look. _So he kn__o__w__s__ this place._ A light smile grazed her lips. This trip was going to be really interesting, then. Her heart skipped in her chest at the opportunity offered of discovering her partner's past. Until today, he had remained quite obscure on his childhood and even his war time, but now her mind was delighting at the idea of him revealing a new side of his personality only to her. Again, this weekend promised to be full of discoveries. Her eyes sparkled in delight as she watched Mac talked with the seller.

"Ah," said the man. "Well so ya know to be careful around the Ol' Man Creek, right?"

Mac nodded. "Yeah, I know, but we won't go there."

"Ya sure know your way around then," concluded the seller. "But just in case, here is a map of the forest. The place quite changed if you haven't been around for some time."

Stella hastily grabbed the map the seller was handing them with a childish smile to Mac. She was curious to know where they were and where was that Old Man Creek they were talking about. Why should they be careful up there?

Heading out, Mac felt the comforting presence of Stella, following him few step behind. As he reached his bike, he heard her foot stop and frowned. He quickly set their grocery's bag in the trunk underneath his saddle and closed it. He sat on his bike, and glanced with a smile at Stella. She had fully opened the map, her eyes wide at the large forest unfolded before her.

"Wow, this is huge, Mac!" she exclaimed with a big smile.

He grinned, happy to see that she seemed enthusiast, and not regretting to come with him. He knew that some woman hated the forest and the life in wilderness, but up until now, he didn't know if Stella would fall for it or not, though he had hoped for the former. So now seeing her face so excited, her eyes gleaming with joy, he knew he had made the right choice. Although with the night coming, she might regret it for good.

Patiently, he waited that she was done looking at the map. They were done for today, though he hadn't told her yet, so there was no rush at all. Silently, he put his helmet on, and inhaled gently the air of the forest. Images flashed back in his mind, as the scent of the pine trees mixed with the smoky scent of burned woods slowly filled his lungs. He had missed the feeling. That total freedom, without the burden of the job, his responsibilities toward his city and his team all were far behind him, though if needed, he could change into CSI mode in the second. For a short moment, he freed his mind of all the horror he had seen in his life, and he was ten years old again; his dad cradling his small hand in his, their faces bathed by the warm sun of july while they trodtoward the crystal river. A soft smile tugged at his lips at the memory of his dad, his hero. An invulnerable shield slowly surrounded him at the powerful memory. Looking up, he gazed at the beautiful woman before him, her golden curls softly lifted by the warm breeze, each of her smiles accompanied by a blazing sun. At this precise moment, as they were both alone in the middle of this giant forest, he knew she was the one the same way he had known with Claire. There was no doubt nor fear only certainty and peace; he would give his life for her.

Finally, Stella folded the map and stuffed it inside her jacket. Her eyes sparkled in content, and she graced him of a shy smile. "So cowboy, I guess we're not gonna eat here, right?" she asked as she saw him ready to ride again, though he was looking at her with a look she had never seen before. Her lips tight, she felt something deep inside her warming and sparkling in expectations, and wondered what this look could mean.

"Not here, no." He racked his throat and focused his thoughts on their path ahead, his dream pushed aside. He slid his shades on and looked at the wooden barrack facing the road. "I know a better place." He gave her a shy smile, and turned on the engine.

His shy expression created a warm feeling inside her, as if he was silently asking for her permission to move to the next step. She bit her lower lip. Of course she wanted to go there, but maybe he wasn't thinking at the same place she had in mind. _Or maybe he is,_ shot her mind. Sinking the helmet on her head, she gracefully slipped behind him, pressing her body against his with delight. She let out a deep sigh, wondering if he had any clue of what her heart was feeling at being so close to him. But then, her arms snaked around his strong chest, and once again she felt his heart skipping as if he was surprised by her move. She grinned. It felt good to feel him express his emotions so honestly, though she could bet he wasn't doing it consciously. Nevertheless, she had to admit she liked to feel his heart beating for her like that. So maybe he knew what he was doing to her. A shy smile grazed her face at the thought that maybe there was more for this trip that she had expected at first. Her heart began to pound madly at that new possibility. She closed her eyes. _C'mon, Stell, don't get too excited, girl. _

Biting his lower lip, Mac swore that he had to keep a check of his reactions when she was around. He hoped somehow she couldn't feel his heart accelerating every time she was touching him. In truth, he had always felt like that, but since she had pressed her body against him this morning, his heart had surprised him by the high rate he was taking even when she was just brushing his hand. She moved behind him and her warm breath caressed his nape as she spoke, sending chills down his spine. _Oh God._

"Ready, cowboy," confirmed Stella.

He gulped the lump in his throat and stepped on the gear. Softly, the Harley led them back to the road, and within minutes, Mac found the path he was looking for. With a smile grazing his lips, he drove the bike to an old path made of hard trampled soil that lazily climbed the mountain. He was glad today was a shining, summer day, otherwise that path would have been muddy and the excitement wouldn't have been the same.

About half an hour of small bumps and dents later, the path stopped in the middle of the forest. Stella frowned staring at the giant pine trees surrounding them. It seemed the road stopped right there. Did Mac make a wrong turn? Then she remembered they had just followed the path, and they hadn't come across any other roads. Mac turned off the engine, and the plain silence of the forest engulfed them as he climbed down. At first she had to confess, it scared her a little. Well, not like a real fear, she had seen worst as a CSI. No, it was more this feeling of being suddenly alone, abandoned even though Mac was there with her. She lightly shivered, not wanting to make Mac uncomfortable. She just wasn't used at the absence of sound. She smirked, she had probably let it appear on her face as few seconds later Mac was giving her a warm comforting smile of his own.

Standing under the trees, he unzipped his jacket. His hands rested lazily on his hips. Mac raised his head, and gazed at the sun trying to pierce through the dense canopy above him.

"The forest is alive, Stella," he whispered as if he didn't want to scare the forest. "If you listen, you'll hear it singing, and you'll never be alone."

His words struck her. How could he know she had felt abandoned? Her lips tight, she frowned. She didn't want to upset him with this. But then, he seemed quietly relax, which was even more unusual. So, she finally followed his gaze to the blue sky, curious to understand what he had meant. She observed with awe the wind gently blowing through the dancing, crown trees while the sun playfully to wink at her. Then, she heard it; the voice of the forest. Soft and sweet, though strong and reassuring at the same time, she listened to the warm breeze brushing the branches in soft whispers, the birds singing together and the trees' bark cracking to answer. A gentle smile grazed her lips at the magic she had discovered. Mac's warm hand slipped into hers.

"Come," he murmured to her ear before he led her between the trees.

Feeling as she was just ten and had once again escaped the surveillance of the sisters to discover the world, she grinned widely and ran beside Mac. Their fingers entwinned together in an unbreakable bond, her heart madly pounding in excitement between her ears.

His boots crushed the thick layers of dried pines in the rhythm of his beating heart. This place had always been magic for him as a kid and now that he had the opportunity to show it to Stella, his heart was accelerating, wondering what she would think of it. He swallowed, a giddy feeling of excitement blossoming in his heart. Deep down, he knew her heart was beating at the same pace as his, and that simple thought made him even happier as they were now sharing the same path. His free hand took support on the trunk of a giant pine tree as he stopped letting them get their breath back. He watched with satisfaction his partner grinning like a kid, mirroring his own childish smile. Cocking his head, he gave her a shy wink before he resumed their walk but this time in a lower pace. They weren't far anyway.

Few minutes passed, and the dense forest gave in to a small clearing bathed by the warm sunrays. Stella watched with delight, the green grass covering the small nest and gently licking into the turquoise river below. It was as if the trees themselves had stepped back to leave that small open space nestled near the river.

"Mac, it's beautiful!" Her heart spoke as she let the warm sun bathed her face. Taking a deep breath, she unzipped her vest, and let the warm breeze caressed her neck.

He grinned like a kid._ And you haven't seen the half of it. _"So, you won't mind if we set our camp here tonight?" he asked, hoping she was loving the forest as much as he did.

"Camp? Like in 'camping'?" she asked her eyes, widening.

"Yep, like in camping. So, huh, ya up to, City Girl?" his voice trailed off a bit, his eyes searching for the moment she was going to back down and ask for a small room in a Comfort Inn.

"Ya do know I have no training what so ever in camping, and that I could burn this forest like the cooking of the other day, right?"

Mac smiled, his mind remembering the day she had wanted to make a new recipe and had asked him to come and taste. He smirked, though she had forgotten that some spices sometimes tend to burn as well. He chuckled lightly. The flame over the oven had surprised both of them. The dish had quickly finished into the sink before he had ordered chinese with a soft smile, while watching a fuming Stella staring at her charred ceiling. Anyway, danger had been avoided and all had been fine, except for her ceiling. He grinned. That day had been a great Bonasera moment. To her, used to cook so well, she had to be distracted not to watch the cooking. His smile widened remembering she had blamed the fire on him for wearing unconventional clothes. He smiled. That evening had been on a weekend and for once he had been playing mechanics with an old buddy from his boot camp. They were customizing some parts of their Harley when she had called to invite him and had said, that whatever cloth he had would work. So he had come as he was dressed.

"_This should be considered against the law, Mac Taylor_," she had said looking at his clothes the minute she had let him in.

"_We__ll, it's just a mechanic suit, I know it's a bit dirty, and..."_ he had replied with a frown full of apologies.

"_I'm not talking about the suit Mac, more about the absence of conventional t-shirt underneath."_

"_What?"_ he had stuttered, looking at the top black suit wrapped around his waist and the white, short, sleeve t-shirt he had worn that day. _What was wrong with his t-shirt?_ He had thought at the time.

He chuckled, remembering how her eyes had unconventionally lingered on his chest that day.

"Well, I'm not a trained firefighter," he teased, his mind back to their talk. "But I planned the eventuality and the river below should provide efficient fire extinguisher in any case." He pointed at the turquoise water glistening like a mirror.

She took a fake offended look. "You planned the eventuality?" she nudged his side in disbelief. "And what else have you planned, mister I'm-no-fireman."

"I'm better in lighting fires," he replied quickly. Taking a deep breath, he playfully turned his face toward the river trying to hide his cheeks turning crimson.

Stella lighted face grinned. Did he just start foreplay? Mac? But then, she remembered that the past weeks he had seen happier than ever, apart that last week, of course. She frowned, staring at his dark, short hair. What was going on with him? "Mac?"

He racked his throat, his back still to her and his gaze lost in the small clearing. "Well, that's what my father used to say," he corrected. Gee, why his heart was going so fast now? _Calm down Mac, it's only Stella._ _Yeah, but why have I never felt like that with Peyton? _He shook his head. _Nope, not true,_ _I did feel like that with Peyton but mostly when she was sucking the air around me, and we were at the office. With Stella, it's like permanent fire blazing inside. Am I becoming crazy?_ _Well, talking to yourself could be considered like it, Mac_. He took a deep breath, his lips tight. He glanced over his shoulder at Stella who didn't try to hide her broad grin at his discomfort. _No, the more she's around and the more I can't breathe. Can't be a coincidence, _his brain shot. _Sure genius, you know the answer since the beginning so why are you trying to make sense of it now?_ His lips tight, he gave her a weak smile. _Because that damn brain needs to go rational when my heart wants to play the wild card_. What's wrong with going with your heart anyway? His mind asked in despair. _Nothing,_ echoed the voice of his dad. _There's nothing wrong going with your heart, son. _Mac shut his eyes for a second, and his lips curled upward at the thought of his dad, and their last trip in this place.

"Mac?" came Stella's voice.

He opened his eyes and gave her a shy apology. "Sorry." He sighed and her hand gently patted his shoulder. "Haven't been here in a while. Brings back memory."

"I see," she stated, softly stroking his back. "So where are we going to set our campfire? Kinda new for me. Live in the wild and all."

He turned to her, his face beaming. "Oh, you're gonna love it, Stella."

"Kinda do already," she grinned with a mischievous smile as she saw a playful glimmer flashing in Mac's green eyes.

He grabbed her hand and led her in the middle of the clearing, before he spoke. "We'll set up our camp near the water, over there." He said pointing at a small spot covered with thick, green grass. But first, we need to eat. Stay here I'll bring the bike and..." he began as he walked back the way they came, but her hold on him stopped him.

"You don't seriously think you're gonna keep me away from you a second," she teased, and then blushed at the underlining meaning in her words.

"What?" he asked surprise by her serious tone. "I'm not leaving you, Stell, I just..."

She cut him off as she pressed her hand over his beating heart. "Nope cowboy, if we ride together, we do all together."

He chuckled. "Okay, but stay close. It's easy to get lost in a forest if you don't know your way around."

"So I'll have to stay close, huh. How close do you mean?" she teased, loving the way his cheeks turned crimson and his lips curled into a smile.

Shyly, his hand rubbed his neck. "Stell, you know I didn't mean..."

"Relax, Mac, I'll let you breath, though I won't let you out of my sight," she continued, not sure why she was pushing so hard their game. But she had to admit his embarrassment was a delight to her eyes, and she enjoyed his cheeks taking new shades of red every time she was poking a little more.

He gave her a sheepish smile, before his embarrassment quickly faded at the mention of losing her in the woods. "You better, City Girl."

Turning toward the forest, Mac headed back to his bike, though this time he walked instead of running to keep an eye on Stella, just in case. Even though he loved the forest, he had as a kid, got lost in the woods, and when you're six, and it's dark, things can turn up pretty scary and dangerous. He smirked, mostly when you start to blindly run from every scream you hear. He pouted. His leg was still remembering it. Avoiding some bushes and small trees, and after walking for a little while, they were finally back to their initial point.

Stella watched amused as Mac took the crutch off the bike and began to push it before him, his hands firmly holding the handles. "I don't think you can cross that thick barrier of busheswe passed, Mac," intervened Stella.

But Mac glanced at her with a boyish grin, and after few yards through the trees, he circled a big rock hidden by a tree and took a small trail going down the small hill. He smiled back at her as the summer heat began to warm his body. So after a minute of strained efforts to push his bike, he put the crutch on once again, took off his jacket, and tugged his sleeves half way up to his arms.

Stepping beside him, Stella grabbed the jacket he had left on the saddle before it fell.

Mac glanced shyly at Stella. "Thanks." Then he resumed his efforts to push his bike.

"Well, I'm no biker, but I think that even if this trail is quite narrow, I'm sure that with your skill you can ride to our future camp. So now that I see the path you can go on, I'll follow right after, don't need to wait for me, White Knight," she quipped, waving her hand in the direction of the path.

He lightly chuckled. "Thanks, but I'm not waiting for you."

"You don't," she said, her brows creasing with disappointment.

"No." Mac couldn't suppress a small laugh at her confused look. "Sorry, Stell. Though I wouldn't leave you alone, it's not the reason why I'm pushing my ..."

"So why, then?"

"We're on an Indian trail, Stella."

"So?"

"Well, my dad always said that when you like something you better take care of it, and respect it." His hand pointed at the trail they were following. "This trail had been trudged by the **Susquehannock **for centuries, and..." he puffed, beads of sweat glistening his forehead. "and, so paying respect to their memory by not crushing it with our wheels is the least we can do. Besides, I don't have the heart to break the magic spell of the forest with my engine."

Stella smiled widely at Mac's small confession. "Okay, Wild Mac." She stepped behind the bike, tied Mac's jacket around her waist and began to push as well.

"Stell, you don't need to, besides you might hurt yourself there," he said with a worried glance to her hands. But he noted that as stubborn as he was, she kept pushing the bike, her fingers resting dangerously near the turning wheel. One slipping move and she could break her fingers or even her wrist with the wheel, even rip a piece of flesh. He sighed, images of her bloody hand trapped into the wheel rushing into his mind. "Okay," he stated, conceding defeat as he stopped the bike and slipped the crutch down. He watched her smiling face now covered with small beads of sweat too. "Take off your jacket," he said, with a firm tone as he stepped inches of her.

"What?" Her heart skipped in her chest at his commanding tone, but mostly at his near proximity. She could feel heat radiating from him as his hands went to her hips. She blushed, when she felt his fingers fumbling over her bailey as he untied his jacket from her waist, and his breath tickled her face when he stood up.

Stepping back, Mac avoided her quiet stare, his cheeks slightly flushed but not from his latest efforts. He swallowed as he rolled up his jacket and stuffed it inside one of the bags, and waited for Stella's.

Widening her eyes, and her breathing returning to normal, Stella realized Mac was waiting for her jacket. With a sheepish smile, she took it off before she put it in his waiting hand. Without a word, he stuffed the jacket inside the bike, and then turned to Stella, biting his lower lip.

"Okay, Stell. Since you wanna help, I'll show you how. But no more fingers around these wheels," he said, his authority returning. "You could break your hand," his face softened as he pointed at the wheel. "Stell?"

"Acknowledge Sir," she quipped with a mischievous smile, and a mock salute.

He flashed her a fake offended look. "Alright, City Girl. Come over here." He waved his hand and showed his previous place near the bike.

As ordered, and grinning like a kid, Stella walked to the designated spot beside the bike.

"Now, hands on the handle." He said. "You're holding up?" he asked with a wicked grin.

She frowned, not sure his wicked grin was a good thing for her future, but she trusted him, and she wasn't going to back down now. "Yup."

"Okay, then, so here we go." He slipped the crutch up and stepped back.

"Mac?" she asked, wondering what he was doing. Okay, she was holding the bike but that thing was heavy. _And damn it, sliding too_, she noted as she had to squeeze the handles not to let the bike fell.

Mac watched amused from his spot a little behind her. "Alright, now, you just have to push," he smirked. "You wanted to help, right?"

"What? Yes, but?" she yelled back. Frowning she glanced over her shoulder to find her partner, his arms crossed and a smug glow of a bad ass kid onhis face. All right, if he wanted to play like that she could too. That thing was heavy right, but she wasn't called the tough Bonasera for nothing. Taking a deep breath, she pushed on her legs and to her surprise the bike slowly moved forward. Her brows knitted. _Wow,_ she grinned inwardly. _See that, Mac? _

Mac laughed at Stella's shocked expression when he had told her to push. She had probably thought that he really meant for her to push his bike all the way. He knew his partner was tough, and she wasn't going to back down from a fight; and when you started to push his little bike, the weight was quickly changing to be more comfortable and easy to move. His sight praised on Stella's effort to move the bike and her sudden realization that it wasn't heavy when it moved. He smiled, admiring her way to fight even when she was in unknown ground. Well, she was so tough that sometimes he really feared for her life. Hell, not sometimes, every time. He sighed, following her closely just in case. The trail was uneven at some place, and in a few minutes with the small hill ahead he knew he would have to take it back; but at least she wouldn't get hurt by trying to help. This way, she would let him continue as she would be satisfied for having done her fair share of work. Or at least he hoped so.

Stella smiled proudly. Some of her ex-boyfriends happened to have a bike, but most of them would have never let her touch their bike, 'their baby' as they called it. She ground her teeth at the thought. So, she must admit, it had surprised her that Mac let her take command over his bike, even if it was for a prank. But again, Mac was really different from the other men she had known; caring, respectful of her feelings, and mostly considering her as his equal; were some of the thoughts that came to her mind when she was thinking about him. She continued to push as she could see the trail going up and feeling the bike resisting at her efforts.

Prepared to push more, she was surprised once again when she felt a pair of strong arms ensnaring her. Mac's warm hands covered hers. Their helmets tied to the front bar of the bike dangled slightly as she felt his strength taking over and the bike went slowly up the hill. It was a relieve to push, though it was mostly Mac who was doing all the job now. She wasn't blind enough to believe she could compete with his strong muscles. She grinned, but her smile quickly faded as her body slowly warmed on fire. Her heart beating in her throat, his body was pressed against her back, and now she realized what he must have felt to have her behind him this morning. She swallowed wondering if he could hear a heart beating as she had. Surely, feeling him so close, and his breath brushing her neck was just warming her own core and mind.

Stella loved against him, Mac felt his core burning as his legs pushed to move his bike forward. "I'm good Stell, you can step aside now, you've done enough," he said, with a whisper. _I'm good. Damn it!_ _What are you thinking, Mac?_ He shut his eyes hoping Stella wasn't gonna bounce back on his words, but thankfully she didn't take the bait and remained strangely silent.

_I'm good. Oh Mac, I am too. Gee, Stell, calm down._ "Huh, that's okay, Mac, I said I wanted to help, so I'll go all the way." _Are you out of your mind? All the way? Now he's going to think that you like to be like that. So what's wrong about being pressed against a friend, a very good friend. You mean a potential lover?_ She sighed, scolding her mischievous brain. Why can't she get a break from her mind sometimes? _Lover? Right, I love him and I never told him, happy?_ _But now what? It's not like he seems troubled by me right now._ She sighed as the trail became steeper. _I wish I had told him._ So why not now? _Yeah right, and screw that big weekend, no thanks._ She took a deep breath. _C'mon Stella, just enjoy yourself, after all it's not everyday that you can ride with Mac._ She smiled, as a soft breeze brought her his aftershave. _Now finally pushing that bike isn't so bad after all,_ she thought mischievously, her face reddening.

Gee, he hadn't counted on her sticking while he was pushing his bike, now he was trapped. The trail was steep and he couldn't leave her alone without letting her deal with the full weight of his bike, and that could turn up really bad. He shook his head. _Nice play, Mac, really. But_ now his own mind was playing tricks with him. _The trail is too narrow, that's why you told her to come here,_ his mind repeated as to justify his actions and her presence right in his arms. _Yeah, but she could think you're trying to seduce her? Am I?_ He swallowed, feeling her sweet perfume slowly rising toward his senses while her body kept pressing against him. _Maybe, but she doesn't seem to mind?_ He shut his eyes but she moved slightly and her whole body rubbed against his, sending golden, perfumed curls to nuzzle with his face. He clenched his teeth, trying to focus on other things, like the job, or bodies. _Oh God, Mac. Not bodies, her body. _His mind flashed him images of his partner in a less dressed apparel, and he couldn't suppress a warm desire growing inside him._ Oh God not now. Think Mac! Just think! Dead bodies, right. Think dead bodies. _He took a deep breath as they reached the top of the small hill, the clearing in view. He gulped for his salvation. _Saved by the clearing._

As the bike slowly rolled at the top of the small, hill, two broken hearts let their breath out at the same time. _It had been too close,_ they thought in unison.

Mac stopped the bike. "You should step aside, now, Stell," he softly spoke. "Now the road is descending a bit, and that's risky if we are both holding the bike." To his relieve, he felt her slowly slipping from his arms.

"Alright cowboy, get your horse back at the stable," she grinned. It had been more than fun to help him out with his bike. One, she had learned a few more things about his indian side; and two, she had the pleasure to feel his arms around her, as if he was really holding her. She sighed, if only. But as long as she would keep her mouth shut, nothing would happen, but there were small chances that he felt the same thin. So she'd better save it for the end of the trip, at least she would get great memories by then if their friendship was broken by her confession.

"Thanks for your help, Stell," Mac said softly, giving her a warm smile. He sighed, even if it had been tough for him to remain cool, he had enjoyed that small trip in the forest, though it wasn't as if they were together. He tightened his lips and continued to push his bike, Stella walking by his side. He glanced, frowning as she was remaining silent. "Something's wrong?"

She chuckled lightly, gazing at his green, warm eyes. Her lips curled upward, as she got lost in the green pools of his intense stare. "Huh, just thinking that I'm enjoying this trip."

The road getting dented, Mac had to clench his grip around the handles to keep his bike in check. He glanced quickly at his partner. "Then, I'm glad," he said, hoping she would say the same thing tomorrow. He finally stopped his bike near the edge of the forest, and pushed the crutch down. He grinned at Stella.

"Hungry?" he asked as she was staring at the iridescence of the water turning every ray of light into a rainbow.

_Just like his eyes,_ she thought with a smile, before she gave him a warm gaze. He was so surprising this weekend, that she wondered a moment what else he had in store. "Yup, really hungry."

"Well, let see what we have here." He opened the trunk under his saddle and rummaged through the paper bag. "...Bagels, cream cheese, smoked meat and cranberries." He smiled as he playfully tossed her the bag of black, red fruit.

A smile tugged at her lips, she followed him a few feet down as he sat on a bed of grey pebbles scattered along the river. She observed him, as he set their food next to him and drew a knife from his jeans pocket. Still holding her bag of cranberries, she sat beside him, leaving the food between them. With a boyish grin, he opened the bag of bagels and started to make a Sandwich His hands worked quickly, and she noted that he wasn't taking the same care as he used to when handling evidence. _Of course not. _She scolded herself.

She rolled her eyes to the azure sky over them. Fortunately, he had left his habits for the job, and wasn't becoming a maniac. She smiled lightly, wondering when she had started to ask so many questions about her friend. Until then, things had been simple and she had never thought of him this way. Though until then, she had always caressed the idea of their friendship evolving into something less friendly. But currently, it hadn't been just an idea. For a few months now, she had noted how while she was watching him during a case or working in his office, she had started to have those questions about what he would wear the next day? Or what he did during his weekend? and with who? Or what he would do for the evening? She frowned, before that, she had never thought about it, unless she could see on his face that he was tired or bothered by something. So why now was she busy trying to imagine what he was doing while his free time, especially when she wasn't with him? She heard him racked his throat and turned a blushing smile toward him.

"I guess we're gonna need to go food shopping soon if you don't like this." He stated with a bit of anxiety in his voice.

She looked down and realized he had been holding a sandwich in front of her for who knows how long. She grabbed the sandwich and gave him a weak smile. "Ah, sorry, Mac. My mind..."

"Drifted?" he tried, though he knew already the answer. He had seen how deep in her thoughts she had sunk lately, especially since he had picked her up this morning. He sighed hoping that deep inside she wasn't lying and being diplomat when she was saying she enjoyed this ride. He didn't want her to feel obligated toward him.

"You can say that," she replied a bit evasive.

His lips tight, he stared at the blue water changing its color. Slowly, he brought one leg toward his chest, and his arm lazily rested on it, his hand still holding his knife.

"You know," he started, his gaze now lost on the shining, crystal surface. "My dad told me one day, that when you think you're lost or in need of answers, the best place to go is where a forest meets a river." He lowered his voice, as images of his dad and their last trip together here rushed back into his mind. His lips tight, he closed his eyes feeling that pain soaring again. He quickly swallowed it back. It had been just before his departure for Beirut. His shoulders sagged lightly, his heart heavy from this painful reminder.

What? Wondered Stella, stunned by his sudden confession. Did he mean he felt lost? or in search of answers? That's why he came here?

"Mac?" Stella asked as she saw his face looking down, and his back sagged forward. Her stomach churned at the sudden change of his attitude, obvious sign that he wasn't doing so good after all. Had the shadow come back in his eyes? Bending a little, her hand reached for his back and felt him shiver at the touch. Biting her lower lip, his shiver quickly faded when she gently stroked his back.

He took a deep breath and mustered a half smile. "Sorry, I guess my mind drifted too." He sighed, cursing his brain for letting himself go in a dark path he had promised he would avoid for her sake. "So, you like it?" he asked, pointing at the sandwich she hadn't touched, and trying to change the subject.

_The shadow's back,_ she noticed bitterly. Her body tensed at the reflection of his buried pain glooming in his eyes. She sighed heavily. But seeing his discomfort and will to get back to less serious matters, she playfully frowned as if she was discovering something new in her hand.

"Well let's see if you're a good cook," she teased, knowing the time wasn't at any confession from any of them. Taking a small bite, she glanced to see him watching her, and waiting. Chewing with a big smile, she muffled a word but it didn't come out right.

A boyish grin appeared on his face. "Well, I thought you knew better than to talk while you're eating," he replied on the same teasing tone.

She squinted with a small smile, a grin sparkling in her eyes. "Not bad," she admitted. And although a trace of the shadow was still lingering behind his eyes, she saw him relax a bit at her answer, and wondered if that gloom could be related to her. Was he really expecting her to leave him? "You know, this place is amazing," she said, hoping to make him understand she was going to stick with him this weekend, no matter what. "Now, camping will be a first for me, but you're not gonna get rid of me that easily, I swear, I'll get my scout badge at the end of this weekend," she grinned, her hand rose, mimicking a swearing pose.

He grinned at her answer and felt his tension fading even more. He pondered if she hadn't said that just to make him feel better, but whatever was the reason it worked. Focusing his attention on the food, he prepared a sandwich for himself, and then, stretched out his legs on the beach pebble. He watched the river streaming down; the low flow of the blue, crystal water rolling over the rounded stones, playing a sweet music to his soul, and after a moment he felt great, at peace, his dark thoughts gone, as well as his meal. He lay backwards, his arms crossed behind his head and stared at the sky. Small clouds were passing lazily the azure sky pushed by the small breeze. He smiled, happy that Stella was with him; happy that she was alive and seemed to enjoy that day. Then, he rolled on his side and found Stella gazing at him. Her cheeks turned a bit of pink when their sights met, and he wondered what she was thinking for observing him like that.

Her sandwich gone, she was now enjoying the small red fruit, and the joyful view of her partner finally relaxing. It was great to see him without his eternal burden weighing on his shoulder. She watched as he slowly lay to watch the sky, his features peacefully smiling. She had the deep feeling that he was showing her a side he had never done before, perhaps afraid of her judgement, but today he looked almost free. Well, almost if it hadn't been for that little shadow still coming back in his eyes at sometimes. Then, the small clouds disappeared and the sun bathed his face the moment he turned to her. Caught in her contemplation, she blushed, not really sure why, but considering the shy smile he gave her, she bet he had noticed her crimson cheeks.

He smiled. Her blush was giving Stella a spark of innocence he had never seen before. It was as if she was afraid of showing him the real person that was inside her, but at the same time, was encouraging him to try to reach for it. He breathed slowly, not sure why, but he couldn't detach his sight of her beautiful, blushing face, and somehow he wished she would look at him everyday with that same shy smile lighted by those sparkles in her eyes. He sealed his lips, just gazing at her, knowing that one of them would have to say something, but he couldn't. He felt good with her gaze lingering on him, he felt strong the way she was looking at him, he felt rejuvenated and confident in the world. He let out a sigh of pleasure that she obviously didn't miss as she replied by the same kind, making his smile growing even more.

Her lips tight, she kept gazing at the green, ocean pools he offered her. It was comforting to be with him, and relaxing. Last week hadn't been one she wanted to remember, especially him getting hurt, and she hadn't really dealt with the fact that one day, those blades could cut much deeper in his flesh, and she would be left alone. However, seeing his green, unyielding fields gazing and graced by his charming smile were enough to give her hope for the rest of her life. She breathed slowly, hoping this moment to last forever. She wanted to print that memory in her mind, and never forget he was looking at her right now. If she had to tell someone, she would have said he wasn't looking like a friend, no, there was so much more in those eyes. So she lingered in his deep, green pools now turning into a blue, crystal ocean of hope.

With a smile, the sun bathed its children with its warm rays, not wanting them to be bothered by the cold, and watched them like a grateful parent seeing happiness filling their heart. Even the dense, green forest lulled a soft song mixed of birdsong and soft cracking branches to honor what had blossomed for years, and waited to be harvested. An eagle crossed the sky and following the advice of its friends, the sun and the forest, graced the human silhouettes of its shadow, blessing them for a happy future.

He didn't know, for how long he had gazed at Stella like that. He just knew that one minute he was with her, totally drawn into her emerald world, feeling in peace; and a long time later he had stood up with regret, thinking that if he wasn't preparing their tools, they weren't going to have a lot to eat this evening. Not that it had really bothered him, he was used to skip meals, but he didn't want her to do the same. No, she needed to eat properly and have a good night rest. He smirked inwardly, knowing that if she could have read his thoughts, she would have teased him about it, saying that he should apply then his politics to himself. But in truth he had forgotten a long time ago to keep a check on himself. He was living as the life was going, and if he had no time to eat or sleep it didn't matter, although time wasn't always the problem with the latter. Looking at her, it's only when his knees popped for having stayed in the same position for too long, that it occurred to him that a lot of time had passed without any of them to talk or move. A small smile tugged at his lips as he gave her a hand to help her stand, and she gratefully accepted it.

Without a word, Stella held to his hand, happy to feel his skin under her fingers, though she was regretting that he had broken this peaceful moment. She understood that they had to move, but honestly she would have liked to stay like that forever. So hoping to keep some of the dream intact she sealed her lips, and lingered in the dream of his eyes as he pointed at a place. She nodded, grateful he wasn't talking either.

With a soft sigh, he felt her fingers grazed his skin when she stood up, and turned to show her where their campfire would be. He smiled, not sure he wanted to talk and break what strange and comforting feelings had been built between them. It was as if their bond had been strengthened ten times, and he really liked that.

Stella watched as Mac went to his bike and put the remaining food in the small trunk before he pulled out two canes and a small paper bag. Too intrigued, she racked her throat lightly, and her chin pointed at the things he had in hands.

He grinned. "Before we set the camp, we have to make sure we have enough food for tonight," he said, walking to the river.

She watched amused as he sat and took off his shoes and socks. "Don't tell me I'm gonna see you swim to catch our meal?" she teased. No way, he was going to play Tarzan now. Her cheeks flushed at the thought of him stripping down before her.

"Nope."

Her beating heart slowed down, and her hopes of seeing more of him were crushed by his little word.

"We are going to fish our next meal," he said with a big grin plastered on his face.

"Huh, We?" she was stunned. He wanted her to fish. _Huh, good luck with that_. Even in the small amusement parks, she had never caught anything but water. So she wasn't sure he should count on her to feed them both. This wasn't going to be very funny anyway. "Mac, I never...Huh, learn to..." She frowned. How could she tell him that she screwed at fishing?

Mac gave her a warm smile feeling her growing discomfort. "It's easy, Stell." The small cane in hand, he gave a quick jolt to his wrist and the cane suddenly grew before Stella to become much longer. "Take your shoes and socks off," he playfully said, his eyes quickly following her curves up and down.

Unsure of where all this was going, she began to untie her boots while he was carefully attaching a thin line to the longer cane and set it next to her, with a childish smile.

"Okay, now what?" she asked, when he was done with the second cane.

"Now we put food at the hook, and we wait," he stated with a boyish grin.

"Just like that?" she had seen a lot of movies where there was fisherman and it had always seemed more complicated than putting food at the hook. "Alright." She stood up, and pulled up her bottom pants to her knees. Her cane in hand she took the worming 'food', like he had called it and attached it to the hook before she followed him.

The stream was cold and yet refreshing with the summer sun now burning their skin. So she found it nice after this warm day to be free of her boots. To add to her pleasure, the bed of the river was carpetted with small pebbles and sand, and the combination was fun to play with her toes, though really different from a beach.

Mac smiled as he had heard Stella's feet meeting the cold water and her muffled sighs of delight after few seconds in the refreshing liquid. His neck was starting to burn, and his sweater was now clinging to his chest as sweat slowly dripped the long of his back and under his arms. They were far in the afternoon, and the summer sun was burning their body. So fishing was a good way to cool a little bit before the evening. He glanced over his shoulder and watched how she was observing him carefully, watching all his moves, thinking that maybe there was a secret for fishing. Well, maybe there was, but to him, it was only a good way to spend some quality time with his best friend, the forest and think, though today he was preferring to avoid the latter.

She put her line in the water and watched at the bobber remained afloat. Wondering how the hell she was going to know when she would have a fish. She watched through the clear water small shadows turning around what had to be her hook, but so far, nothing had happened.

"How is it supposed to work?" she whispered to Mac. She had seen in movies that talking was always bad for the fish, it would scare it.

He smiled at her low voice. "You know you can talk louder," he teased on the same kind of whisper she had used, his eyes sparkling mischievously.

She watched his grin lighting up his face. "What ya...?" she started on a whisper, before realizing he was muffling a big laugh. "I mean," she continued with a normal voice. "Not funny Mac. Why the hell people are always whispering when they're fishing?"

His chuckle burst in the small clearing. "Well, maybe because they just want to have silence around them, so it's another diplomatic way to say to the others to shut the hell up, I guess."

She looked at him, stunned by his answer.

He shrugged, raising his brows. "Sorry, but with my dad we always talked for hours, and we always had fishes, so, I don't think there's a link."

She let out a small chuckle. His reasoning made senses.

He racked his throat, turning a cocky smile to her. "So I don't mind if you talk. Kinda like to hear the sound of your voice anyway," he said, before turning his head back toward the blue water and avoiding her bewildered stare. His cheeks turned crimson, but he knew that she couldn't see him. _So what? You like her voice it's no big deal right?_

Stella's jaw opened half way at the grateful compliment her partner had just graced her_. Like your voice._ "Huh..." she rambled still watching his back and the thin line of sweat now cladding tightly his sweater. "How will I know that I have a fish?"

He gave her a warm smile. "Oh, believe me, Stell, you'll know."

She crunched her face, not sure his answer was much clearer. So she stared at the bopper for what seemed an eternity until, she heard him muffled a curse just before pulling out a long silver fish from the water. She stared, amazed as the fish wiggled in the air hooked by Mac's line, each of its moves shining a rainbow. He turned toward her a sheepish smile as to apologize he had a fish and not her.

"It's alright," she said with a smirk. "I can understand that experience counts."

He grinned like a kid as he passed next to her and dropped his fish on the grass. "Your turn will come, Grasshopper," he wickedly uttered as he trudged through the water to go back to his initial place.

She smiled at the playfulness side he was showing her. In fact, she didn't need a fish to be happy, just gazing at his nape, and seeing his muscles slowly relaxing was the best prize she would have wanted. Then, after patiently waiting for a fish that definitely didn't want to hook up with her, another idea silently sneaked inside her brain as Mac was pulling another fish from the water.

With a feeling of guilt, Mac lay the second fish on the grass and went back to the river. He wondered if fishing had been a good idea. Stella seemed to have shelled back, and she was now silent. Trying to draw a smile on her face, he playfully sprinkled a little water on her when he passed near her, a big apologetic smile plastered on his face as if it was by accident. But to his disappointment she didn't react as he had planned. Instead of smiling or sprinkling him either, she had just ignored the water.

"Ah, it's okay, Mac," she said, faking she hadn't noted that he had sprinkled her intentionally. But he had just given her the opportunity she was waiting for. Not sure if the idea that had popped in her mind would work at first, she knew the minute he had sprinkled her, that finally she might have found something funny about fishing.

He frowned, his line back in the water, and his eyes staring at his red bopper. "You wanna stop fishing?" he asked turning his back to her. He sighed. He was nervous again, pondering if finally this hadn't been a bad idea after all. But then, her voice close to his ear caught him by surprise.

Stella watched with a grin as Mac turned toward her with a light frown. Knowing her partner and his skills, she wouldn't have a lot of opportunities, so counting on the surprise factor, she stepped closer with a mischievous smile and gave him a heavy push. She watched wickedly as losing his balance he fell backward and splashed in the water, a look of surprise and content painted on his face.

"Gotcha, Mac," she teased, a light laugh escaping her lips at his small predicament. But before she had the time to praise her victory, she felt his strong hand grabbing at her jeans pocket and she was pulled down with him with a big laugh.

"What did you say?" he teased as his face emerged from the water, inches of hers; water dripping from his drenched, short hair and into his smiling eyes. His body half under the water, he grinned as Stella was on top of him, fighting his arms which had quickly snaked around her waist, hindering her eventual retreat. Her erratic moves plunged his head several times in the water, but he kept his hold, and after a while she gave up. His green eyes praised his victory as they connected with her sparkling emeralds. His arms happily wrapped around her wet body, ensuring she was tightly pressed against his beating heart.

"How did you get to me so fast?" she mumbled through the water dripping from her wet curls.

"Told you I have an indian side," he quipped, his eyes gleaming with delight.

"Well, do you have a seal side too?" she added as she managed to set one of her arms free and pushed his head under the cool water with a playful grin.

Free from his grip, she laughed before she swam to escape him. Though she didn't go far, as his strong hand closed on her ankle, and she was dragged back to him. "Mac?" she screamed playfully at the sudden pull, her words finishing with light gargles. He laughed as she tried to set free but this time, he kept his hold, though he was careful not to bruise her delicate skin.

"You can't escape me," he stated with satisfaction as he dragged her slim body further against him, breathing in short rasps.

Her head under the water, her arms waved in all directions to find the surface and filled her lungs with air. But suddenly she was gently pulled up by two strong arms. Breathing happily she found herself captive in Mac's strong embrace. His face was inches of her, and he smiled playfully at her, his eyes sparkling like a kid. Body against body, she could feel his heart beating fast in his chest from the efforts he had used to pull her from the water, and now to keep her from escaping his arms.

Mac watched with a smile of pleasure as water dripped from her golden curls when he pulled her from the water and drawn her to him. His heart was beating madly from the contact of her cladded shirt against him. His green eyes followed the curve of her body, her clothes wet and stuck to her perfect forms. He delighted at the view of her top printing her well curved breast. Then, his eyes connected with hers and he tightened his hold against her waist, keeping her close of him. Her breath inches of him, he could feel her heart beating rapidly too. Her breath softly brushed his flushed face when she stopped to move and remained frozen in his arms, her emerald eyes trapped in his. His heart accelerated and he had to swallow to keep it from bursting out of his chest.

Petrified by his intense gaze, Stella watched with fascination the man who had managed to enslave her, just with his sparkling, green eyes. Her heart was beating so fast, she wasn't sure she wasn't going to pass out and was more than thankful that he was holding her in his arms. For a second, she wondered if now wasn't the right time to tell him what she had laid in her heart for so long.

His mind went at top speed, wondering what he should do now that she was in his arms. But then, he bit his lower lip. He had taken a decision, and until then, he couldn't compromise everything with a dumb move. _Tomorrow,_ his mind repeated. _Tomorrow I'll know if I have lost her forever or if we stay friends. _Fear crept back to his mind.

But then, he blinked and she saw him hesitate before his grip loosened around her, and she could stand on her own in the river. She watched with fascination as she was finally freed from his arms, though his hands lingered a bit longer on her hips before he let them sadly dropped in the water. With a cute, boyish grin, his hand rubbed his neck, and his eyes sparkled a small sorry. _Sorry._ No, she didn't want him to be sorry.

"We should set the fireplace before the night," he said, his lips sealed in a guilty pout before he trudged back to the bank, his soaked clothes dripping heavily to the river.

Taking a deep breath, her arms dropped limply on her side, wondering what kind of idea had popped into his mind when he was holding her. She would have sworn she had seen something shining in his green pools, but now she could as well be imagining what she wanted too. She let out a deep sigh. But took a deep breath, determined more than ever to enjoy this weekend. So far, this day had been great, and she was just amazed to see him so relax, and playful. Although there was still something bothering him, her heart was now beating, rejuvenated with a new hope. Resting her warm eyes on her partner drenched silhouette, she smiled, reminding herself that this surprising weekend was just starting.

_**...TBC

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**_

**A/N:** Well, I hope you're enjoying the ride, cause I think I'm just getting warmed up here, sorry, that story is really getting into me, and it's late...lol so don't forget to leave a review and tell me what you thought of this.

Have a great week!


	3. Under the stars

**A/N:** Well, like I said before this fic is rated T for the unexpected that will come to my mind, so it still calls for it and I guess, it's clearly heading for a strong T, so be advised, lol.

Many thanks to all who reviewed, put this fic in their fav, and read. Thanks a lot guys, you rock!

Again, fluffy SMacked ahead, lol.

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

**Summary:** after a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

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Mac trudged through the crystal water toward the bank, deeply in thoughts. In no time, his bare feet met the warm, rounded stones heated by the blazing sun as he exited the cold water. He gave out a small sigh of regret, and tried to slow down his heart rate. He couldn't say he was exhausted because of their small play. No. But his mind was still pondering on thoughts he wanted to escape since this morning. He sighed, and that alone was enough to wear him out. To add to that, he had been very close to cross the unspoken line they had drawn between each other. Though he had craved to do it for a long time now. Fortunately for both of them, his mind had taken over, and had avoided the catastrophic failure that would have ensued: putting their friendship into a wreck. He sighed, a small crease appearing on his forehead. For a brief second when she was in his arms, he would have sworn he hadn't seen a gleaming sparkle in her eyes encouraging him to take the shot. But as brief as it had been, his brain had been back at the command, and he hadn't moved.

A bit anxious, he turned to check if Stella was okay, since she hadn't followed him right away. He was nervous when she was far from him, especially since last week. Even though he liked the forest as a get away place he had discovered with his dad, Stella had no clue about how to behave in it. He didn't want their little trip turning into a rescue party because he wouldn't have been able to take care of her. His face immediately lighted up when he saw her heading his way, a big grin on her face. So at least his dumb move hadn't broken their bond. _Not yet,_ his mind reminded him painfully.

"I like that part of fishing," she teased.

He chuckled lightly, his cheeks still flushed from her close proximity when they were in the water. "Yeah me too. Didn't know you had graduated from splashing-your-partner-school."

She affected an offended look before she joined him on the burning bank and nudged his side with a smile. "Oh, C'mon, Mac; like you didn't enjoy putting my head under water, huh?" she playfully remarked.

He blushed lightly. "I think I told you before, Stell, I don't take pleasure in someone else discomfort," he said, taking a serious look, and keeping his head straight up as if he had said the plain truth before a grand jury. But then, he finally lost his fake composure and his face changed into a broad smile, trying to hide his laugh.

She smirked, feigning not to notice his rosy cheeks and the small laugh of victory he was giving her. "Well, I enjoyed it." She smiled broadly. "Hey, first time I could try to drown my boss, and thinking about a whole month vacation as a reward," she quipped.

"You know you could ask?" he tried. His lips curled in a fake pout. "Less expansive and your boss could say yes."

"Ah, not the same fun. Kinda like to see his surprise face under the water anyway." She winked with a smile.

Mac grinned as he locked his green, ocean eyes with Stella. His lips tight, his sight lazily followed her curved marked by her clad, wet clothes. With a smile, he noticed a small puddle of water had formed under her bare feet, and he assumed he probably had the same under him. Taking a small breath, he looked up quickly. The sky had taken a deep shade of blue, and was now smeared by some thin, white lines of shredded cotton. Soon, it would be night, and keeping their clothes wet wasn't a good idea. He looked down to find Stella staring back at him with a mischievous sparkle gleaming in her eyes.

She smiled gazing at him. Of course she had loved to play, in the water with him. First time ever, she should add. She smiled inwardly as her emerald eyes delighted in the view of her partner soaked to the bone; his drenched sweater dripping to the ground, and now stuck to his chest drawing his well built muscles. Her smile grew even wider as he looked up and she had all the luxury to brush over the shape of his strong arms and legs. She tightened her lips, as some unconventional thoughts surged in her mind on how she would enjoy helping him to get rid of that wet sweater. But then, his sight went back to her, and she was caught in her gazing action. She felt the warmth guilt heating her cheeks as his brows creased in wonder.

"You okay?" he asked, wondering why she had started to blush when his eyes had locked with hers. Then his sight drifted toward her dripping soaked clothes, and he frowned. "You should change, I'll go get some wood." He turned and then stopped heading back to her.

Stella frowned, she could see a serious look hidden behind his reassuring grin. He pulled out a knife from his pocket and handed it to her.

"You should take this," Mac said.

"A knife? Why do you want me to have this? Do you plan a nightattack by some wild beast?" She teased, hoping she was far from the truth.

"Nope," his hand went lazily to rub his nape. "But I'll feel more comfortableknowing you have this while I go pick up some wood." He looked around with a frown. "Just in case."

She wanted to tell him that she was a big girl, but then, he knew the forest better than her, and if he was worried, maybe she should think twice before refusing. Whatever were his reasons, if having this knife could get his mind at peace then why not? She knew that Mac wasn't a macho type, thinking she needed him for protection all the time. So it couldn't hurt her to have this. She nodded, and took the knife. She slipped it in her wet pocket as she watched him put his boots on and heading to the forest. A soft breeze lifted her golden curls, and she shivered lightly. Time to retrieve her bag and change into something less wet. Taking few more steps to Mac's bike, she quickly found her bag and opened it.

With a quick glance around her, she wondered if Mac could see her from where he was now. Though she had to admit, the perspective of him observing her was kinda exciting and was bringing new feelings to her core that she had troubled to extinguish right away. She grinned. But knowing Mac, she could push the idea aside. He was too much of a gentleman to try to do something like that other than by accident. She quickly pulled off her wet sweater and jeans, and shivered as the light breeze grazed her wet skin. She changed into a pair of sweat pants, and slipped into a pink tank top with short sleeves. She trembled a moment as the breeze blew softly in her wet air, clouds hiding the warm sun.

With a frown, she looked around, searching for Mac. The warm sun hidden, her wet hair wasn't refreshing anymore and more chills ran down her spine. Quickly, she grabbed a small towel from her bag and peered through the dense, green forest. Surely, the woods with their thick roof, couldn't be that warm, and now she was starting to worry for Mac. He hadn't been in perfect shape lately, especially since the attack. So, with his clothes still wet and the shadow of the trees, she doubted he was enjoying his search for wood. She sighed, hoping he would be back soon and they could make a warm fire to warm both their bodies. Nodding to herself, she turned toward the area he had pointed as the best place to set their camp and decided that she could try to make a decent fireplace while waiting for him.

_**xxx**_

Mac strolled through the thin bush surrounding the giant pine trees. The scent of smoky wood and fresh, pine trees quickly filled his lungs with delight, and he began to relax a bit. His muscles had tensed at the near proximity of her face, her inviting lips mere inches of his. Even if he was grateful for his brain for stopping him before anything happens, he was still regretting not to have taken the shot. For a moment in the water, as their bodies had entwined perfectly in each other's grasp, he would have bet she was waiting for that move as much as he did. He sighed, but he wasn't sure, and frankly he didn't know if that kind of foreplay wasn't already threatening their friendship. Maybe even leading them toward a path where he could definitely lose her. He tightened his lips in a sad pout, hoping it wasn't the case. Lazily, he crouched and picked up a small log. He raised his eyes toward the crown trees, his mind at a loss.

It was hard to think straight when she was around lately. His mind seemed always distracted by all the what if possibilities it could create. Some of these were more than appealing but in others he was losing Stella forever. He sighed deeply, his boots lazily grazing at the thick moss covering the ground. Frankly, he didn't think he was prepared to lose Stella. Not now, never. He knew damn well what his heart had concealed for so many years, and how it was becoming an everyday struggle to deal with it lately; but he was scared that revealing his feelings would take her away for good. More than a bullet or a knife, these at least he could always deal with by stepping into their way, but he couldn't do that with himself.

He shook his head. If only he knew the perfect solution to keep her with him without losing their friendship, without losing her. But he wasn't sure. He swallowed the dark fear creeping to his heart, and gnawing at his soul. It hurt. It hurt so bad that at some moments he just wanted to show her what he felt and be done with it, but then what would happen next? He stopped and watched for a moment as two birds landed on a small branch before him. The small animals looked at him as if they could see through his tortured soul. Then, they snuggled closer and the smaller bird seemed to lean on the other. If only he could be as free as they were, with no worry about the future. He let out a heavy sigh, and picked up a big log covered with dried pines. He shook it silently, and some dirt dropped from it. He checked if it wasn't eatenby worms or still wet inside, but it was fine, so he stuck it under his arm with the others and continued to look over the ground. A small breeze blew in his damp neck, and he shivered lightly. His wet clothes cladding his body became suddenly very cold, and he tensed, waiting for the wind to stop. He hoped Stella had the time to change into something dry.

A small grin appeared on his lips at the thought of his partner undressing. Her wet clothes had perfectly drawn her curves, and he had to admit, his sight had lingered more than a few seconds on the perfect body she had offered to his view. His lips curled upward as her image printed before his eyes, and he delighted in the view. Of course now, she had probably changed, and it would be best for her health; but still this vision of her, wet and her clothes clad to her perfect body wasn't going to leave his mind soon. He smiled in content. Even if it was hard to be pressed against her and not to tell her what he was feeling, he was having a great time just to be around her.

He sighed, wondering if their nice game would end up with a broken friendship or something more. His heart wanted to go for the latter, and hope for the best. But fear kept growing inside him, eating him a bit more everyday, getting on his nerves and sanity. He had to tell her, but first he wanted to give her a chance to refuse and back away. He owed her that. She had done so much for him after Claire died that he couldn't throw away everything they had carefully built because he was that desperate. No, he had to let her decide to take a step back, then he would do as she wants, even if it meant watching her being happy with another guy. His fists clenched against his side at the idea. He wanted her to be happy, true, but it was hard to see her with another man lately. It was burning and smoldering inside his chest like a quiet pain. To be honest, he hadn't been sure she would be free this weekend to join him, and if she had said no, his whole plan would have meant nothing. After all, all of this was just to give her the opportunity to say no and back away. He swallowed, but then, she had followed him, no complain, just smiles and was getting ready to spend a night under the stars with him. He wondered a second if maybe he wasn't just dreaming. Yeah, he could still be in his hospital bed, his cut having done more damages than expected, and he was now dreaming all this. _Damn good painkillers._

Just to get him back to reality, the wind blew a bit stronger and his cold clothes ensnared him in a freezing grip. He shivered. No he was awake. A small smile grazed his lips as he picked up more woods. Then, maybe he should just continue toward their destination and see what would happen. He nodded with a small grin tugged at his lips. Yep, he would do that.

_**xxx**_

She looked at the stone circle she had laid over the grass and smiled. It hadn't been easy to find some big stones to do that, but she had some fun doing it. It was so different than being at the Lab and scanning for DNA and particles, that it was exciting. She smiled, no, the real thrill was to discover her partner on a new light; one that she found appealing and sexy at the same time. She grinned inwardly. Of course, she hadn't needed that to notice him and find him attractive before. But this wild side of him was picking her curiosity, and she couldn't stop but wondered how many things were still hidden from her. She already knew a lot of his bright and charming side had been buried under layers of dark sorrow and torment after Claire's death. And yet she had to admit that besides his military background, she had thought that he wouldn't surprise her. She smirked, obviously she had been wrong. There was more in Mac Taylor that she could ever imagine.

She glanced over her shoulder, thinking she had heard something. But the silent forest answered her. _No, not silent Stella,_ her mind told her, _remember what Mac said._ _The magic._ She listened carefully, and once again, she noticed the soft brushing of the trees together, birds answering to the sweet lullaby of the old trees. She smiled, happy and somehow feeling more connected to her partner than ever. If she could hear the same thing than he did, then, maybe she could hear his heart beat and find the right pace to meet him. She grinned inwardly, hoping song writers were right and that love was always at the end of the road. She looked back at her work again with a smile_. First fire camp, _her mind shot proudly. Well, hopefully she wasn't going to set this valley on fire, for Mac's sake.

"Nice," Mac's voice echoed behind her. "You too have an indian side," he joked with a grin.

"Got a good teacher," she quipped as she turned toward him with sparkles in her eyes.

She watched as his arms flexed under the weight of heavy logs before he set them near her circle. She frowned looking at his wet, navy sweater. It wasn't just wet anymore, it was dirty too, the logs having left their muddy prints over his chest. "You should change. You're still wet and..."

"Am okay, Stell," he interrupted her. "I'll change as soon as we have a fire. We need to dry our clothes anyway." He didn't want her to catch a cold. Even if they were in the middle of July and it was still warm, a fire was in order to be sure that she would stay warm. Furthermore, the time to light the fire and that it really begins to burn and warm their bodies would take them sometimes. So, he should get started right away. He would take care of his freezing clothes later.

She gave him a small pout. Why did he always have to do things first that could jeopardize his health? The fire could wait, she wasn't cold. They were in the middle of July, but he surely could use a pair of dry clothes, seeing how he was beginning to shiver.

"Mac?" she began as he looked up and she noticed some tiredness lingering behind his green pools.

"I'm fine Stell. Let's make a fire," his eyes searched the ground, avoiding her stare.

She sighed, knowing that now that he had made up his mind she couldn't change it. "Okay, so now you gonna show me how to light a fire?" she teased, though she was intrigued by the things he could really show her. And how did he know all that? Of course he had probably learned some of it in the marines, but yet she was curious to know.

He crouched near the circle. "Why not," he replied with a warm smile. "Come over here, City Girl, and take that small piece of bark with you." He pointed at the pile of wood he had arranged near the stone circle.

She smiled as he had used her new nickname again. Somehow it was if they were sharing something very special since she had embarked on his bike this morning. Excited to see what he was going to show her, she took the small bark and sat near the stone circle. She watched with curiosity as he grabbed one small, thin stick and another slightly curved. He grinned at her as he sat near her and took one of his laces off his shoe. _What is he doing now?_

Mac looked up with a grin toward Stella. Her eyes stared at his hands while he tied the lace at both end of the curved stick to make a bow. Then, he twisted the thin stick inside the tense lace.

"You are really going to teach me to make fire?" she asked totally bewildered. "You know the risk you're taking, right?"

"Yep, so you take this." He winked before he gave her the sticks entwined, and placed the bark underneath the end of the thin one. Then, with another wicked grin he put a curved stone on the other end, so that the thin stick was held between the bark and the small stone, the bow parallel with the ground.

She watched bemused as now she was holding the bow in her hand and its string was entwining the thin stick. "Now what?"

"Well, now you put your hand here," he said as he gently grabbed her free hand and placed it on top to hold the small stone.

His warm hand lingered few seconds over hers, and she slightly blushed. Her eyes darted nervously at the ground, hoping Mac wouldn't notice her discomfort.

He swallowed feeling his heart in his throat once again. His voice faltered a little. "Then, you have to move the bow from one side to another, to give a spinning motion to the other."

"I see," she stated as his hand left hers and she sighed inwardly. "You want to warm the bark and create fire. Clever." She quipped, and as a reward he gave her a warm smile.

He chuckled lightly. "Thanks, but that's not from me." He smiled as he slipped some dried moss near the bark. "Now you have to work and put some muscles, Stella, if we want to have a big fire for tonight." He looked at her, trying to muster all the seriousness of a stranded situation could bring, but seeing her stunned face, he finally settled in hiding his wide grin.

Her eyes widened, but taking the challenge, she began to move the bow as advised.

Mac smiled as Stella was carefully moving the bow from one side to the other, making the stick spin on itself. "You should go a bit faster," he stated and was rewarded by a dark stare quickly followed by a deep frown carving her face as her attention was back to her work.

As she worked, he set some logs inside the stone circle. She had done well, he noted. He admired her work, as he stood up and shivered. The cold was seeping through his skin, and he was now nervously shaking. Watching her work with pride, he took a step behind her and placed a careful hand over his chest to muffle the burning pain. He sighed, the water and his wet clothes had probably reawakened his wounds, and he didn't want Stella to notice his small winces.

She frowned, her whole attention focus on the thin ray of smoke that seemed to escape where the stick was quickly rubbing at the bark. "I think I got something Mac?" she said proudly as she glanced over her shoulder and found him crouched behind her, a curious look on his face. Her brows creased, if she hadn't known better she would have sworn she had seen him wince.

Hearing Stella, Mac carefully pressed on his chest before his hand dropped near his side. He gave her a weak smile as she looked at him. Taking a small breath, he went to kneel in front of her. He slanted forward to see what she was pointing at and his face came inches of her cheek. He faked to ignore her near proximity and stared at the small bark.

"I see, City Girl is learning well," he said, taking a proud father tone. He grinned as she looked up at him with surprise and amusement in her eyes.

Her heart had skipped in her chest the moment Mac had kneeled before her. She could feel his warm breath softly caressing her cheek each time he raised his face to look up at her and tell her what to do.

"So what now? Master?" she quipped lightly, her cheeks slightly blushing at the close proximity of his inviting lips. _Just don't think about them,_ her brain shot. _Gee, thanks, easy to say!_

He breathed slowly, trying to push aside the growing desire her sparkling eyes had on him. "Well, you have to put some moss near the smoke and try to light the whole thing." He looked down sheepishly, avoiding her sparkling, blazing gaze. _Damn it!_ He couldn't look at her like that, especially when they were so close, or he was sure, she would see through him and their friendship would die at that same moment. He swallowed carefully.

Her heart racing in her chest, she focused on his words. _Moss? Where the hell is that...? Ah, it's here. Damn, just in front of me! _She sighed softly, now he was distracting her. "Okay." Trying to sound confident, she took a handful of moss and put it over the smoke.

He winced at the full hand she had grabbed. "Huh, not that much Stella." But his words arrived too late, and soon the small smoke died, buried under the moss.

She frowned. "I thought you said...Well I guess I'm not good at that." She rolled her eyes to the sky and sat back on her feet, taking a deep breath. She watched as Mac seemed a bit disappointed. Because of her failure? Or because she was far from him now? She wasn't sure anymore.

He bit his lower lip as Stella sat back, breaking the magnetic field they had created. Her hands behind her, she gave him a sad look. Maybe he should have told her sooner for the moss, but it didn't really matter. It wasn't an easy job she had tried anyway, and he was proud she had taken the challenge without blinking.

"Okay, I give up," she conceded in defeat. "Why don't you show me how you do it?" This was going to be interesting. She smirked inwardly. She wanted to see how the thing really worked, but especially him at work could be just nice to watch, considering his sweater was still perfectly cladding his well-built chest. _Oh, Stella you're so pathetic, _her mind shot.

"Ah, already giving up." He smirked. "Okay, I guess I can show you how you should have done it," he quipped with a wicked smile.

And with a quick move, he pulled a lighter from his pocket. Taking the moss, he put it under the logs he had arranged in a tepee shape and lighted it. Slowly, small yellow flames crawled their way up and soon the entire moss was burning under the logs with a thick, white smoke.

Stella watched agape. "What the...? Are you kiddin' me?" She couldn't believe he had made her trying to light a fire when he had a lighter in his pocket all along.

"Well, that process takes ages to make fire, Stell," he quipped as to defend himself. He gave her a boyish grin, obviously very happy about his joke.

"Mac Taylor," Stella growled, faking hurt.

"What?" his smile lighted his face as his hands came forward in defense. "I thought you said you wanted to learn to make fire." His smile widened sheepishly. "You know like that you'll know how to make a fire if you're stranded and anything happens,." he countered, his smile creasing to his ears. He couldn't stop but watch with delight the fake hurt she was trying to muster in her eyes, though he could bet she was about to break in a laugh soon.

"Huh? And where that could be? Bloomingdales? " she retorted with a fake grunt.

He chuckled lightly. "You never know, Stella." He was amazed how much she had worked to make it happen. "Besides it's a real technic," he said taking a more serious tone. "And it can really become handy. At least, it worked for me in some occasions." His voice lowered, his thoughts bringing him back in a past he would have liked to forget, especially today.

A small line creased her forehead as she saw his sight darkening, and a grim look plastered on his face. He stared blankly at the small flames starting to lick the logs. He seemed as if he had drifted into another world, and didn't seem to notice the small breeze that made him shiver.

"You should change, Mac," Stella intervened, trying to pull him from his thoughts.

With a shy smile tugged at the corner of his lips, he looked up and stood up before the fire. "I guess I should." He absently looked at his bike, and without a word headed toward it.

She wondered what was really going on through his head, and sometimes she would pay a lot to know what he was thinking but obviously, he had decided to keep it from her. So, instead of pushing him to know more, she decided to just keep an eye on him. Her sight followed him and stopped on the bike as he had walked behind it.

"You need something, Stell?" he asked, his brows creased as she was watching him with a frown of her own.

"Nope, nothing Mac, just wanted to know what was next? After the fishing and the fire, I was just wondering what you had in mind?" _And maybe catch more on the side, huh_? Her brain shot with a bit of shame. _C'mon! Give me a break! He'll tell me if he's embarrassed._

He racked his throat, not sure if his body was totally protected from her sight. He didn't want to embarrass her, but her gaze didn't yield either. He wondered if he shouldn't ask her to just turn around.

"I..." he rambled as he unzipped his pants, and she continued to stare. "Huh, next is a..." His voice came out, rattling. He was having a hard time to just think straight with her gleaming emeralds gazing at him like that. He tightened his lips, trying not to show his own embarrassment.

She smiled, seeing how he was becoming embarrassed by her excited eyes. Her cheeks blushed and she knew it was time to look somewhere else, although with the bike before her, she couldn't see much but his chest. With a sheepish smile, and a small sigh of regret, she turned to look at the crystal river to give Mac the privacy he needed.

The minute she looked away, he jumped on the occasion and quickly dropped his pants, and grabbed a pair of dry jeans inside his bag. He slipped into the dry clothes and spoke, his voice stronger than before. "Well, usually a night around the fire means stories of ghosts or haunted places," he began, feeling her warm eyes on him again. But this time, taking off his sweater wasn't that embarrassing. Or he assumed it wouldn't be.

She smiled as Mac seemed to feel a bit better, the creased on his forehead had disappeared, and he was now talking about their evening. Her smile turned into a mischievous grin as he lazily pulled off his sweater, offering his well-built, bare chest to her view. Her cheeks turned crimson as she was found guilty by his green ocean eyes connecting with hers. But she didn't look away and faked to be interested by the conversation while her eyes followed the slim form of his side and ribs toward the middle of his chest. But then, her smile faded instantly, as her eyes set on the white dressing wrapping a part of his chest. She thought he was healed. The doc had told her that his stitches wouldn't remain for more than three days, and then the dressing would be gone. So why those bandages? She looked up and noticed his look of guilt painted on his face. He turned around showing her his back. She would have gladly admired his muscles gently flexing under his skin if she hadn't been that concerned.

Quickly, he slipped inside a black sweater. He swallowed. _Damn it!_ He had forgotten about that. His sight had followed Stella's eyes, and he knew the minute her smile had changed into a frown of worries that he should have asked her to turn around. He had just totally forgotten about the new dressing, the doc had wrapped around him a few days ago. So, now he had to make up something quickly and preferably avoid the subject.

"Mac?" Stella asked, with worries. "Is that from...?"

"Yeah. You know I have something for you in here," he said, quickly changing the subject as he bent over the bike and rummaged through a bag. He had promised to himself that this weekend would be filled with happy moments and not for her to worry about him, again.

"Mac, why do you still have those?" she asked as she had come close to the bike. _What is he thinking?_ She cursed mentally. That she was going to drop the subject like that? He had been hurt by protecting her. And now, after a week where she had no time to check on him, she was discovering that he wasn't as fine as she had assumed. What was really going on?

"Ah, just a small protection, ya know doctors. Always worried for nothing," he dropped lightly, his hand shaving the subject. _Please, Stella, just forget about it._

His doc had been worried? What did he mean? "Mac, I thought you should have healed by now?" Her eyes went directly over his black sweater. She frowned, so she had really seen him wince few minutes ago. _Does that mean he's still in pain?_

"I have, don't worry. You know Doctor Shen's always over protective. He advised me to keep them a bit longer for this trip, that's all."

"But, Mac...?"

He grabbed one of the sleeping bags. "Nothing to worry, really Stella." He smiled and tossed her the sleeping bag. "I think this one should work for you." He said, hoping she would finally drop the subject.

She frowned as she stared at the bag in her hand. She didn't like that. Her own cut had been deep and that's why she was still wearing that small dressing around her wrist, but for Mac, Shen had said it wasn't that deep. So, in less than a week he should have gotten rid of both, the stitches and the dressing. She clenched her teeth seeing how Mac was avoiding her stare as he grabbed his sleeping bag, and headed toward the fire. In all these years, if there was one thing she had learned with Mac, it was that when he had decided to clam up, then all discussion was over. _Damn it!_ But with the whole weekend ahead, she could count on another occasion to talk about it. She sighed. She still didn't like it. Whatever happens, she would learn why he was still bandaged like that.

Slowly, she walked back to the fire and sat beside him. Her shoulder brushed his to make him know that he wasn't alone, she was still there. She glanced at his eyes, his sight now lost in the small fire before them.

"You know you can talk to me, right?" she said softly. Why was he hiding that from her? They were friends.

He let out a small sigh. "Yeah I know. Look, I'm sorry, Stell, but..." he couldn't tell her why. He didn't want her to feel guilty or concerned for him. He just wanted her to enjoy this weekend and maybe tomorrow he would summon enough courage to talk to her about what was really in his mind, but not about this, and not tonight. He took a deep breath, and his voice spoke softly. He didn't want to make her feel as if he was rejecting her. "Can we talk about something else?"

Her frowned deepened. It was quite rare to see Mac back down and begging to change the subject at the same time; but when it happened, it had always scared the hell out of her; and his gentle request, looked a lot as if he was doing just that.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to push too much... I..." She began.

"You know," he cut her off, knowing she was going to say things that would break his resolve and make him talk. So instead he had to stop her before and changed the subject, even if it was for another sensitive one. "I came here with my dad a long time ago," he dropped bitterly. He hoped that by offering her a side of him he had kept buried, at least she would forget about his cuts for a moment. He really didn't want to argue with her, not now, and hopefully never.

She stopped her next questions at his sudden confession. "A long time?"

The fire grew a bit more as the flames were now licking all logs in a small dance, reuniting them in the middle of the stone circle. Mac looked up at the small orange disc touching the far line of the trees over the river. In less than an hour, the night would replace the warm light of the sun, and they would be all alone in the forest. He quickly looked at Stella, who was waiting for his answer, and he knew that it was time to give her some pieces of the puzzle he had carefully hidden over the years. But before that, they should eat. So he stood up and looked at her.

"I'm gonna need my knife back?" he asked with a curious look.

Stella frowned as she pulled the knife from her pocket and put it in his open hand.

"Thanks," he said as he walked toward the river.

She watched intrigued as he had closed his mind to her once again. Then, he picked up the fish and quickly cut them open. His eyes focused on his task, she could see his features were tensed and preoccupied. He washed the fish in the river, and when he was done, he wearily walked back. His sight still avoiding eye contact, he sat back near her and lay the fish on the grass. Then, his voice surprised her.

"Yeah, a long time ago," he repeated, as he grabbed one fish and picked it on a small stick.

Without a word, Stella observed his slow moves. She could feel that he wanted to talk, but needed his time for it, so she waited, observing his flawless movements. Carefully, he set the fish over the fire, and planted the over end of the stick inside the soil. The stick lazily drooped toward the fire before it stopped, the fish now wrapped by the licking flames.

"My dad and I, we came here when I was ten," he began. "After that, it kinda became a family tradition between us. Every year, at the summer break, he picked me up directly after school, and we headed over here." A small smile tugged at his lips at the memory flooded his mind.

Her heart took a slow rhythm as it seemed Mac was starting to relax a bit. "That's far from Chicago. How did you guys ended up here?" she spoke softly.

He gave her a shy smile as he planted the second fish over the fire, and sat back, one leg brought to his chest. "Well, my dad was in the military before, and he kinda liked to vendture into the wilderness. When I was little, he was telling me that one day he would take me somewhere special, where he would be sure we would be alone and he would reveal to me all his secrets."

Stella smiled seeing the boyish smile grazing her partner's face. "So, he showed you his secrets?" She gently nudged, taking the toneof a conspirator.

He chuckled. "In a matter of fact he did. Though I was ten, so yeah, everything that he could show me was a huge discovery." His smile widened as he remembered the first time he had seen those mountains crowned by a morning mist.

A small line creased her forehead, not seeing exactly how they had ended up here. "There's no forest near Chicago?" she teased.

His lips curled upward at the memory of his birthplace. "Quite a bit, though there're not as big as this one. But it wasn't for the size that my dad had chosen this one. No, here it was special." He started. "We were far from home, my family and my dad's work. So nothing could really reach us here." He smiled. "It's strange but although we were far from home, I've always thought protected here." He glanced shyly at Stella to see if his story was bothering her. But a quiet smile was grazing her lips and her sight was focused on the sparkling fire.

The logs cracked gently as the flames grew stronger, the fire wrapping now all pieces of wood. Mac turned the fish over the fire and sat back beside Stella. He let out a soft sigh as her shoulder automatically grazed his. He was glad she was here, and he was happy to show her this special place for him.

She gazed at his face now relax and felt at peace. Finally, he was unwinding and she had to admit, her eyes marvelled a moment at the soft curve made by his brows slowly creased into a smile. "So you learn to fish with your dad, huh?"

"Yep," he gave her a warm smile. "He said that he had chosen this place for what I could learn here."

"Learn?" she looked at him a bit shocked. "You were ten, Mac. You didn't come here for fun?" She felt suddenly sad for Mac. It had never occurred to her that maybe his dad had been tough on him. After what he had told her about their Christmas tree, she had imagined a strong willed man, caring and funny with his kids. She smiled inwardly, well kinda like her partner actually.

He chuckled. "A bit, but my dad thought that there were some important things to know to handle life. So this was more like our base training camp." He sighed. "He never really told me, but I guess the memory of World War II and the fact that he had lost lots of his friends had made him be very careful about the future. So maybe he prepared his future and mine a bit more than he should have." He said bitterly, and unconsciously his thoughts brought him back to that fateful day where he had come back home to find his father on life support, half dying in his bed.

He closed his eyes, trying to shave away that painful memory. He couldn't go this way, not now, not with Stella around. His fist tightened as to hold on the reality and not sink into this dark gloom. But then like a lonely candle shining into the darkness, he felt her hand gently patting his arm.

She softly rested her hand over his arm, wanting more than ever to tell him that she was there for him. A look of remorse was painted on her face when she glanced at Mac, his sight covered with a glassy haze. Obviously, bad memories were surging through his mind, and her heart suddenly squeezed in pain at the silent torment he was always bearing over his shoulders. She wondered if one day he would be free of this pain, if fate would leave him in peace. She really prayed for it.

His lips tight he gave her a weak smile, his eyes quickly looking down with uncertainty. Her hand softly stroked his arm, and he couldn't help but looked at her again. He tightened his lips in a remorseful pout. She smiled back, her eyes gleaming with all the support he could have waited for. So he took a deep breath, and his sight went back to the shining fire before him. The memories about his dad had always been painful, so he shouldn't have been surprised. But now, he should be more careful, his mind repeated. He should keep his mind focused on happy moments when she was around to not worry her.

"I don't think my dad has ever considered our training as something bad, me neither," he continued. His voice wavered a bit as if he was trying to muster his courage to talk. "You know, it was two great weeks while he was teaching me how to live in the forest, and some survival skills he had learned in the field. Just he and I, and the forest for playground, free from everything else." He weakly smiled before he looked down. "I think he just wanted me to be prepared, ya know, just in case." He quickly shaved the sadness that tried to grip his heart again and gave a sheepish smile at Stella. "Hungry?"

His question took her aback. After his sad confession, she hadn't thought about eating, but obviously he seemed to think otherwise, and it was typical of him to change the subject when matters could get tough. She sighed, though she couldn't blame him to want to feel normal and ignore his wounds for sometimes. She was doing the same too.

"So what did you learn?"

"Well, mostly that to build the present you must not forget the past," he said, his sight staring at the disappearing orange disc behind the tree line.

She widened her eyes at his answer, and frowned. "He taught philosophy too?" she teased as she playfully nudged his side.

He replied with a small chuckled at her childish move, and even graced her with a broad smile, his green, ocean eyes gleaming lightly. She smiled inwardly, glad that his gloom had lost its grip on him.

The sky grew darker over them, darkening part of their faces while the fire lighted the other side. He grabbed one fish and checked if it was cooked.

"More like life teaching." He handed her the stick with the roasted fish on it. "He told me why he had chosen that forest in particular."

"Oh and why's that?" she asked now more intrigued. She stared at the fish at the end of her stick with a smile. _Fish on a stick, _she grinned inwardly. _Well, this one is a real fish, Stella._

Grabbing the other fish, Mac softly blew on it, his fingers skinning it to reach the warm flesh. "We're in the Susquehannock state forest," he stated lightly.

She gave him a small pout, to tell him that she had no clue of what he was talking about. "Sorry, Mac."

He gave her a shy look as he let the stick rest on his left leg. "Do you remember last year, the case when we unveiled a nazi mob?"

"Yes. I remember that we even got back a stolen item from a slaughteredfamily."

He shook his head. "Well, after we closed the case I received an email with a video." He looked down. "I..." his throat tightened remembering what he had felt at the time. "The video was a testimony from a survivor of a nazy camp. He spoke of an american soldier who had helped him to get out of his camp with dignity, and...and," his voice rambled as he felt a surge of emotions wrenching his heart.

"It was your dad?" she finished for him. Seeing where this conversation was going she thought it was a good assumption.

His hand slightly rubbed his face. He nodded. "Yes," he blurted out softly. He hadn't thought it would be that difficult to talk about this. Hell, he hadn't really planned to talk about this, but now that he had started. He sighed. "When I saw that video, something he had told me here came back."

She frowned waiting for Mac to talk as she lazily twisted the stick with the fish in her hands.

"I think it was the second or third day we were here, when he told me that we should always build the future with the past in mind." He sighed, frowning. "I just hadn't really thought about it until now. Strange huh?" he gave her a weak smile, his eyes showing the extent of his weariness. Somehow the weight was less heavy on his stomach now that he had told her.

She smiled. "Not strange, Mac. You were ten. How could your dad expect you to remember things he had said when you were ten?" Was he feeling guilty for not remembering that sooner?

"I have a good memory, remember," he said pointing at his head with a small smirk. "And he never asked for it, Stella, he just helped me to build memories, that's all."

"How? With your training?"

"Not only. Well, you remember the name of this forest?"

"The Susquehannock?" she was confused now, what did it have to do with his dad?

He nodded and his green, ocean eyes turned back to the flames. Small, yellow sparkles sprinkled over the fire as the wood cracked and a log fell softly into the glowing, red embers.

"He told me that hundred of years before we arrived here, there was a small tribe leaving here; the Susquehannock. But instead of learning from them, we massacred them until there was no one left." He sighed, his gaze lost in the golden flames. "Today that tribe doesn't exist anymore. I think, it's what he wanted to make me understand." He turned to stare at Stella, his eyes gleaming with a mix of pain and respect."What happened in the past can always be reproduced if we're not vigilant, as he witnessed it with the Nazis." He turned back toward the flames, his lips tight. His eyes closed for a second.

Stella cringed at the pain she could feel seeping from his body and soul. She swallowed.

"You okay?" she asked with concern, her hand squeezing gently his arm.

Taking a deep breath, he felt his shoulders relaxing from her concerned touch. Without knowing it, his hand was covering hers, and he opened his eyes to look at her. "Yeah, I'm fine." He plastered a reassuring smile on his face and nodded.

"It's gonna be cold," he stated, quirkinga brow as he pointed at her fish.

She quirked her brows, looking at his own stick waiting over his leg. "Are you eating too?" she tried. Even if she was glad he had eaten regularly today, she wasn't about to let him go back to his old habit.

"Ah, thinking I've screwed the cooking, huh?" he smirked, his eyes sparkling. With some regret, his hand left hers and he twisted at the long stick.

She smiled back, happy to see his playful mood slowly returning. "Like I said, first time camping." She watched with delight as he pulled a small piece of flesh from the fish and swallowed it with a boyish grin.

"Your turn now," he mumbled, waiting for her to try her fish.

She frowned, but turning the stick toward her, she carefully skinned it before she tasted it with a small bite.

A wide grin spread over Mac's face as Stella's eyes widened. She swallowed with pleasure the warm, tasty piece she had chewed on. "Not bad, Mac. Quite good in fact."

His grin widened to his ears. "Told ya, Stell." Then, his face became serious again. "Ya know there was another thing to learn from what my dad told me that day, and I just realized how true it was a couple of days ago."

"Oh, and what was that?" she asked, hoping this wasn't a bad memory as well.

"Well, I think what he meant has a double meaning."

Then, it struck her. She raised a brow, remembering he had said he had only understood it a few days ago. Was it related to his change of attitude?

"You see, the past is important not just to remember our mistakes and try to avoid them, but to build our future too." His heart skipped a bit in his chest. He knew Stella couldn't grasp all that he meant by that, but yet, he was nervous to talk about it. What if she didn't agree with him? What if she was saying that he was a big dreamer? Could he bear to have his heart crushed like this? He took a long breath. _C'mon Mac, it's Stella, she's the one that will never hurt you, you know that right?_

She frowned wondering what he meant by that. Obviously, it seemed very important to him or he wouldn't have taken his defensive posture, with his eyes glancing quickly to her, and still avoiding eye contact. His own past was made with harsh and painful memories, though she was sure at one point he had been happy. But it was hard to imagine him like that since Claire had died. So what could he mean by building a future from the past? Hope? Was he involved with someone else again? She thought he had said no to Peyton and Aubrey. Her mind came back to this morning. So maybe she had been right, maybe he had found someone else, and the thing he wanted to show her was before he ends their friendship. She took a deep breath, her mind going AWOL. _C'mon, Stella, you're paranoiac, now._

"I guess your dad was really smart then, if he taught all this with just one sentence." She tried to keep her voice light, shaving away her doubts. Whatever was going on in the life of her partner, she had to be happy for him if he was finally finding peace. She tightened her lips, at least she had him for herself for this long weekend; and that had to count for something in the book of best friends.

He smiled at her reaction and his anxiety faded rapidly.

"But then, he had a smart boy to remember his teachings," she continued. "Can't have a good master without a good student, right?"

His face beamed at the subtle compliment she had given him. "You're too nice with me, Stell."

She smiled back. "Well, you do have an amazing partner," she quipped.

He seemed to think a moment a playful grin displayed on his lips as he gazed at her. "That is true," he softly dropped without more words.

And then, it was her turn to see her doubts vanished with his straight forward words. Her cheeks even blushing from his warm compliment. She stared back as his eyes were sparkling with a new light, or was it the fire dancing in his green pools?

"So you said ghost stories, huh?" she teased. Immediately his eyes shone with a grin.

He dropped his stick, his meal done and looked at Stella. "You're done."

"Yep, it was delicious. I guess the cook wasn't so bad after all."

He grinned shyly, his hand rubbing his nape. "Well, you haven't seen everything yet." He stood up and quickly jogged toward his bike.

Stella turned to see what he was doing. The night had started to settle in and small stars were starting to appear in the dark sky over them. Though a small rosy light behind the tree line told her that the sun hadn't yielded to the night yet. She heard Mac rummaging in something and frowned in curiosity. She couldn't really see his face now plunged in the small shadow, and she hoped everything was okay. "Mac?"

"Yeah, comin'," his baritone voice answered.

He walked back toward the fire, his small, paper bag in hand and a big grin plastered on his face. He sat back next to her, and again, he delighted as her arm brushed accidentally his.

"Can't have ghost stories without a treat," he added with a boyish grin. He showed her a small pack of Marshmallows, and her eyes immediately widened.

Her eyes gleamed at the perspective of roasting some marshmallows in the burning fire. How could he know that she had always dreamed to do that as a little girl? Camping, fishing and ghost stories around a fire place had been like the perfect family-friend picture she had fantasized as a kid. So how did he know? Suddenly, she felt small tears threatening her eyes but with a big smile and the warm fire before her, she managed to dry them quickly. Though it seemed it hadn't been lost on her partner as he lazily bent over her legs, his right arm brushing her legs. She could feel his scent slowly surfacing to her brain as she delighted into the warm feeling of his presence. Taking his time, he grabbed the stick she had used for the fish and sat back beside her. Though this time, not only his arm brushed against hers but his right leg too; and like a small miracle he kept it pressed against her, as to remind her that he was here for her.

Mac bit his lower lip as he bent over Stella's legs to grab her former stick. He had felt a surge of sadness suddenly wrapping her. His heart had writhed in pain instantly. Had he said or done something that had hurt her? He was concerned that it was his fault, and that her late hours of work and lack of sleep had suddenly caught up with her to break her. So, slowly he sat back, stealing glances toward her beautiful face lighted by the fire to confirm his fears. And then, he saw it, the small gleaming light of tears nestled in the corner of her eyes. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to remain as close as possible of her. His leg rubbed hers. He kept it pressed against her, not daring to make a further move that could be misinterpret, but wanting more than anything to give her some comfort he couldn't express openly without jeopardizing their friendship. He wanted her to know that he was there for her. But if he was responsible for her tears then, talking and touching her could lead her to leave him. He waited in torment for what seemed an eternity, feeling her leg keeping the pressure against his and her hip softly stuck near his. He knew he was close of her, maybe too close to keep his self control as he felt his desire starting to slowly build inside, but then the simple thought of her tears was enough to keep him cold and still.

"Stella?" he tried after a long moment. Shyly, he glanced at her with a weak smile. "I'm sorry...I..." He looked down. Somehow he had hurt her again, and he didn't know what to do to take it back or change what he had done.

She could hear his anxiety rising in his voice, and suddenly she realized that he had wrongly assumed that it was his fault. She closed her eyes a second and when she opened then she felt a sweet certainty nestling inside her heart. She belonged there; near this fire, pressed against this man she wanted to be more than just a friend.

"Just never done that before, Mac," she spoke softly, giving him a shy glance. She swallowed back the raw emotions that had surged inside her heart. "I imagined it as a kid, but I guess, I never thought it would sound so important." She sighed. "Sorry, it's not your fault, I was just... surprised." He looked at her, and she knew he understood. More than anyone on Earth, if someone could understand pain and its heavy weight it was him.

If it wasn't his fault, then, he hoped he could ease her pain. He gave her a shy smile, and his hand softly rested on her back. As she didn't move or back away, he dared to venture a little further up, hoping she would accept this small gesture of comfort. Gently, his thumb caressed the back of her neck and some golden curls dangled between his fingers. "Well, I thought that maybe you'd like to try, but if..." He tried, his voice trailing off.

She shook her head, lingering in the warm caress of his hand on her skin. "No, I'm fine, Mac." She took a deep breath straitening up. She wasn't gonna break down in front of Mac. She wanted their friendship to evolve into something more, but not out of pity, not this way.

Mac smiled knowing the tough Bonasera was back. With regret, his hand left her back, and he opened the small bag of smooth candy.

She shivered lightly, realizing how much she was already missing his warm touch. Then, she watched as he gave her a small, puffy candy to pick on her stick. With a childish smile, she picked the candy at the tip of the stick. She plunged it into the diminishing flames, the logs changing into red, burning embers. The flames quickly wrapped around the candy with a thin chimney of smoke.

He smiled. "Not so low, Stell," he said as his warm hands wrapped over hers to raise her stick. He blushed slightly as his thumb gently nestled on the soft crook near her wrist. His heart skipped in his chest at the anticipation of his next move, he could feel her breath against his neck each time she was glancing at him. Her pulse accelerated under his fingers, her veins pulsing nervously. He bit his lower lip and took a deep breath. "Do you see what I mean?" his voice mumbled between his beating heart.

A thick haze had covered her mind the moment his hands had touched hers, feeling him so damn close of her. She could hear him breathing slowly while his warmth was sending a wild fire through her body. She couldn't move, her heart racing madly behind her ears while her imagination unleashed images of her partner pressed much closer than he was actually. With all this heat blazing inside her, she wasn't surprised when her answer came with a weak breath. "Yes, I see."

Releasing his soft grip, Mac sat back, trying to get his heart rate to normal. His mind was on fire, and his body was urging him to get much closer of her again. With a painful fight, he managed to slowly buried his burning feelings. _Here, isn't the place,_ his brain repeated. _But I need her,_ echoed an another voice, a bit weaker. He breathed slowly, trying to remind himself that this choice wasn't his, but hers. Tomorrow, he would show her, and then he would know what would be his future. Until then, he would have to wait. He couldn't ask her anything until she knew the entire truth, it wouldn't be fair for her to decide before. Pain wrenched his heart at the perspective of her negative answer and the rejection. He sighed inwardly, but maybe it was better to linger in his dreams one more night than to put his mind into chaos right away.

Trying to get her brain to function normally, Stella glanced at Mac, who was staring at the fire, his expression blank. She was on edge with him right beside her, and this fire burning inside her. I was making her crave more than anything to be pressed against his strong chest and never let go, her mind urging her to tell him now the plain truth concealed in her heart. She swallowed weakly. But ten years of friendship had made them be very careful to each other. There was no way, Mac would cross the line if she hadn't invited him first, she realized sadly. She watched as he seemed to be alive again and his hands plunged into the candy bag and picked one on the tip of his stick. His forehead creased as under some kind of hard decision, then he stared at the fire again.

Without a word, he brought the candy into the fire, and for a long moment no word was exchanged, each of them relishing in the quiet silence of each other reassuring presence, hoping to remain this way forever.

Far away, an owl hissed into the dark night enveloping them, and both were back to reality. Mac glanced at Stella shyly and then to her candy turned brown.

He racked softly his voice, his hand before his mouth. "You should take it out now, Stell."

She slightly nodded and brought the stick near her. The candy fumed at the end of her improvised stick.

"Careful, it's hot," he added as he pulled out a small box and took two small pieces of it.

"What is it?" she asked intrigued.

He grinned, his energy back when he looked at her gleaming, emerald eyes. "Just put it right over this," he said as he presented her a small, Graham cracker.

Like a kid learning to ride a bike for the first time, she carefully lay the melting candy on the cracker, and Mac put another one on top of it to form a sandwich. Slowly, she pulled the stick toward her.

He smiled broadly as he gave her the small treat to taste. Biting her lip in wonder, she grabbed the small sandwich and gently bit into it. Mac watched her with expectations as he took his own from the fire and did the same.

The cracking sandwich softly exploded in her mouth and the warm candy melted on her tongue. Both blended between her lips. She gazed at Mac with delight, as he chewed on his own with a boyish grin, all fear and anxiety vanished from his green, ocean eyes.

"Wow, that's awesome, Mac."

His face beamed, glad his surprise had worked. "My dad used to make those for me, I thought I could train my partner into it," he joked.

"Well thanks. But I thought you were only learning with your dad?"

"Doesn't mean you can't have fun," he quipped. "Besides around the fireplace I had the best memories of my life."

"I see," she said softly. "And what other good thing did he show you?" she asked, wondering what other things had remained buried under his layers of protection risen over the years.

A wicked grin grazed his lips. "Well, for knowing that you'll need to get closer and trust me," he quipped with an inviting smile.

"I do," she immediately replied with a warm smile.

His lips parted into a soft chuckle. She hadn't even taken the time to think about it, he realized stunned. Silently, he stood up.

She instantly regretted to see him leaving her side, losing already his warmth. She wondered if she hadn't given the wrong answer. But then, he grabbed his sleeping bag and lay it on the grass, near the fire. He sat on his new bed and gave her a shy wink, pointing at her own bag. Chewing down her last bit of candy, she grabbed her bag and lay it next to him, though she tried not to be too close in case it could embarrass him.

She grinned like a kid the moment she sat on her new bed, wondering what he had in mind. Then, she saw him lay on the sleeping bag, his arms behind his head as he stared at the sky over him. Curious, she lay too. She smiled inwardly when their elbows touched softly when she put her arms behind her head.

With delight, he saw her lay right beside him, and it reassured him to know that she was willingly lying next to him. His heart skipped a bit in anticipation and at the somehow awkward position they were now. But frankly, they weren't on a bed or something like that, so what did he have to fear? And anyway it was the best position to rest after their wonderful day and to do what he had in mind too.

His voice spoke softly breaking the silent night. "Did you ever stare at the sky at night, Stell?"

She smiled as her eyes gazed at the magnificent, starry sky over them. The small sparkling lights winked at her."Almost every night when I was at St Catherine. But there, with the pollution and the lights, it wasn't easy to see them." She sighed. No, the life in the orphanage hadn't been very easy.

He nodded silently. "I've always thought as if I was part of something bigger when I watch the stars. It's like the universe could talk and tell me that there's much more to come, ya know, that there's hope for me, for us, for all mankind."

She grinned. Oh yeah, she knew. She had always thought that way, but never thought Mac felt the same. "Everyday," she whispered with content. How strange it was to discover that they were thinking the same way when they were kids. A broad smile grazed her lips. This weekend was just getting better and better, she marvelled in excitement. Then, the cold humidity of the forest remembered her the late hours. She shivered a little and decided to slip in her bag to get some warmth back.

Mac watched from the corner of his eye as Stella quickly took off her shoes and slipped into her sleeping bag. He wondered if she wanted to end their talk, then he felt it too; the cold humid grip of the forest.

"You cold?" he asked, his lips tight in concern.

"Ah, just a little," she said as she zipped her bag to her waist, leaving her arms over her chest.

He frowned, biting his lower lip. His boots away, he slipped too in his own bag, his eyes still carefully observing her. He could feel the small chill of the night sneaking under his skin as he zipped it to his waist, but he was more worried about Stella. If she was cold, she wasn't going to appreciate this beautiful night, and he wanted her to be happy, nothing else really mattered.

"You should get closer to the fire," he said with regret as it meant that she had to leave his side.

Her brows creased at his proposition. Frankly, she didn't want to leave his side, and besides, she wasn't that cold. Then, a new chill ran down her spine and made her trembling a little more. Painfully, she wondered if she shouldn't listen to Mac. But then, she heard him shuffling, and before she knew it, she was carefully wrapped inside his warm, strong arms.

"Don't want you to get cold and regret coming with me," he said sadly, as his hands covered hers. His heart skipped in his chest, hoping she wasn't going to back away and tell him he had crossed the line.

Her heart raced in her chest as she snuggled closer to him, and felt his chin gently resting on top of her head. A smile of delight grazed her lips. Even through the thick layers of the sleeping bags, she could feel, his strong muscles gently protecting her frame, ensuring to keep her warm. She smiled inwardly, and thanked the humid forest for its late chill.

Mac managed to slow down his heart rate when her body snuggled even more in his arms. It felt so natural to feel her pressed against his heart, that he wondered what was the real truth in all that he had lived. Was it to be the Head of the Crime Lab and working with Stella after fate had cruelly taken Claire from him? Or was it to have her with him all the time? He sighed softly, as dream and reality merged together in his mind. He didn't know anymore what was the truth, if he was really with Stella right now, or if she was going to vanish like Claire in the next minutes. So he closed his eyes, and tightened his arms around her, hoping he could keep her a little more with him. But when she slowly turned in his embrace to face him, he shivered in fear of losing her. So, his hands pressed a little more against her back, and he felt her head snuggling against his shoulder. At this exact moment, he knew only one thing for certain: dream or reality he didn't want it to stop, never. He wanted to stay like that forever, and keep her close. He loved her, and if it was a dream, then, he didn't want to wake up, never.

Slowly, her heart rate decreased, and she dared to turn inside his arms. She wanted to feel him close, to breathe forever his scent. His hold tightened around her and she smiled in content. She belonged there, in his arms, and forever. With delight, she pressed her cheek against his strong chest, softly rubbing his sweater and felt his heart beating quickly under her skin. It was thrilling to be so close, and that none of them had released their hold yet. She closed her eyes, hoping she could stay like that forever. Then, she moved a little more. Her hands caressed his chest in the process as she gently wrapped her arms around him. His hold tightened even more, his hands pressed against her back, as if he was afraid she would leave him. Furtively, she dared a quick glance toward his face, and found his eyes firmly shut, and his features tensed. She frowned wondering what inner turmoil he was battling again. So, she tightened her hold too. He had to know she wasn't going anywhere.

Her delicate fingers moved up his chest and he swallowed in pain. Now, he was sure he was in a dream. Stella had never done that. He tensed, waiting for the final blow when she would escape his fingers and he would be left alone to weep in misery. But instead, her hands kept moving around him and then, he was wrapped in her gentle embrace. He prayed with all his heart for this to be the reality, and like a miracle, her hold tightened around him. she hadn't vanished. She was still there and holding on to him. So, his heart slowed down at the delicate pressure of her body against his, and he finally relaxed. And as the fire creaked far away from them, his mind slowly drifted to a world when she was eternally by his side.

_**...TBC

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**_

**A/N: **All right, a lot to come next for our heroes, so let me know what you thought of that piece and have a great day, or night, depends where you are.

And no, next part won't be the last, sorry, this story needs now more chapters to be wrapped up.


	4. I'll stand alone

**A/N:** Well, again lots of thank you to all who have put me or this story on their fav and took the time to review or read. Know that it's greatly appreciated. So, this chapter is a bit more sad/comfort side than fluff this time, but hey, one had to hit rock bottom to climb up and shine sometimes, right?

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Some spoilers...from coming episodes

**Summary:** after a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

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The humming birds greeted him as he woke up, the sun gently grazing his face with his first warm rays of light. Slowly, Mac opened his eyes and blinked under the small light peering far behind the tree lines. A chilling breeze welcomed his stiff muscles as he moved and realized he wasn't alone. His brows quirked lovingly at the form snuggled against his chest. A smile instantly grazed his lips realizing it hadn't been a dream. She was there in his arms. _Stella_. His heart skipped in his chest at the perspective of keeping her with him forever. But sadly he couldn't. He knew that the sun would rise soon enough. Then, the shining light would wake her up, taking her away from him, and the beautiful dream would fade away. His lips tight, he looked at her with sorrow. But for now he was glad he was the first to be awake. This way he had plenty of time to gaze at her loving face nestled over his shoulder. He sighed in content, hoping this moment to last forever.

A small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he realized it was the first night since ages that he had ever slept without a nightmare. _Got to be her, _his mind whispered with respect. Since Stella had entered his life she had always had that magical, appeasing effect on him. Though he had no idea what a real, full night was, except for today. He had forgotten the feeling of a good night rest since Claire died, and had always assumed he would never get any peace. But obviously he was wrong. With her, his mind had found a way to be finally at peace. He frowned, that fact was adding even more pressure to this day, he thought with dread. He sighed and without really thinking about what he was doing, his thumb lazily stroked her back. He felt good and closed his eyes, lingering in the soft beating his fingers perceived from her body, and hoping she wasn't going to wake up shortly.

She smiled, as she walked on the beach warmly pressed against the man she loved. She looked up and her eyes meet the blazing, green pools belonging to Mac. He was watching her with the intensity that she had known him at work, but this time it was only for her. Her smile widened and she lingered in the soft caress of his thumb stroking her back. She had to be dreaming, she repeated to herself. She had never been that close with him, not for so long anyway. But he wasn't speaking, nor she, they were just walking along the shore, smiling as the wind gently lifted their hair, giving them this incredible feeling that they were free from anything. She pressed her cheek against his warm chest and filled her lungs with the salty air of the ocean. _This is too good to be true, I must be dreaming._ Then, as if the weather was against them, she shivered lightly from an unknown chill and tightened her arms around his strong chest. He smiled as she gazed at his warm eyes, and he enveloped her in a blanket of warmth. Slowly, his head leaned toward hers, and her heart stopped beating. The whole world shut around her. He was going to kiss her, she realized excited.

He opened his eyes with a frown. He had felt Stella shivering and glanced toward her quickly, before he wrapped his arms around her. He knew this beautiful moment would end as soon as she would wake up. He didn't know how she would react with his arms around her, but seeing how she was pressed against him, and how she was shivering, he couldn't let her get cold. So, he chose to take the risk. Feeling his heart accelerating, he tightened his hold around her, and her own body pressed further against him as if she wanted more. A warm desire invaded him as her legs softly brushed his over the sleeping bag. Taking a deep breath to cool his core, a soft smile spread over his lips as he looked up and gazed at the small, cotton clouds lazily passing over them. The sun was starting to shine a little more and the sky was turning its color to a light rosy blue. But as she continued to press against him, he winced, her hand having accidentally grazed his new stitches.

Muffling the dull, burning pain, he bit his lower lip. He had to be careful. She shouldn't know that he had reopened his stitches twice this week. His doc was already pissed off the second time he had come with them reopened. He sighed, though he never liked hospital, both times he had had no choice but to go there and asked to Doctor Shen to sew it again; even his shirt had started to be smeared with his blood every time he had made a small move on a crime scene. And since his partner had an eye for details, he knew she would have asked why he was changing his shirt several times in a day. So, dragging his feet, he had gone to see Shen and hoped that at least the doc would help him to hide his wound.

Though when he had arrived, he hadn't expected the doc to lesson him twice. First time had been enough, but the second time, really he didn't need it. After all, it wasn't his fault. How could he stop his body from thrashing in his bed in the middle of a nightmare? He sighed. Every time, he had woken up in sweat, his chest burning from the torn stitches; the salty sweat biting his raw wound. He let out a tired sigh, but not today, he smiled weakly. Nope, today, was the first night in ages he had really slept, and the first since last week he hadn't woken up with blood on his sheets because he had fought in his dreams.

His lips tight, he stared at the blue sky, and felt Stella moving against him. She emitted a soft moan of pleasure, and he wondered what kind of dreams could fill her mind. Somehow, he would like to be with her in it, and stop as well his own nightmare. He shut his eyes with regrets. _Never gonna happen. _He sighed. No this night would remain in his mind graved forever as the best he had in his life, well, with those with Claire of course. He sighed as he was certain this would never happen again. Stella started to move against him and his throat tightened in anguish. _Dream's over, Mac. You can't keep her if she doesn't want to._

Slowly, she stirred, waking up from the best dream she had in a long time. Her arms gently extended and she frowned when she felt a warm body pressed on her side. Well more like her being half on top of another body, she corrected. It was warm and soft and the scent that invaded her brain made her think about Mac. She smiled, remembering her dream, and thinking that somehow her brain was giving her more seconds to delight in the illusion that she was with her beloved partner. But then, the body moved slightly against her and she felt the strong arms around her. Quickly, her mind tried to recall the last events and with who she had chosen to spend the night. Curiously, she realized she was still all dressed up and warmly wrapped in a sleeping bag. And then, it all made sense. Of course, the long weekend with Mac, her mind reminded her. Her smiled spread to her ears as she snapped from her reverie. _With Mac. Oh yes,_ she hadn't dreamed all of this then. A mischievous smile grazed her lips as she opened her eyes and saw Mac's chin, his face turned toward the sky over them.

She followed his gaze and remembered where she was exactly, now. In the forest with him, but not in a shore like in her dream. She smirked inwardly, though it didn't matter really where she was, as long as she was with him, she was just grateful of this beautiful day. But then, she sadly remembered that he had wrapped his arms around her to keep her warm while the night, nothing else. He sighed and she felt his arms slowly leaving her frame. Without a word, she gently rolled on her back and stared at the blue morning sky, Mac's right arm still stuck under her neck. She took a long breath, not sure she wanted to move and leave his side. She wanted to talk about what had just happened, but she knew that he had done it because she was cold, nothing else, it wasn't out of love. Would he have done the same thing just to be with her? She pouted, not sure of the answer. But now, talking about the whole thing could push him into his shell, and this amazing weekend would be shortly over. On the other hand, she could wait and see how things would go. After all, she hadn't expected this night to happen, so maybe there was a tiny hope that they would have more opportunities to get that close again, especially if they kept doing camping. She smiled, _yeah, sure, _she would stick with this; camping was fun with Mac. Especially when she ended up in his arms for the night. A small grin grazed her lips and she sat slowly, leaving the comfort of his arm.

Mac sighed silently as he saw Stella sitting up. _Night's over buddy,_ he told sadly to himself. _Better get back on the road._ His gaze softly lingered on her back, amazed by the beauty of her golden curls falling in a dancing shower over her shoulders. She was so beautiful. But again, there was so much at stakes. He bit his lower lip, wondering what he should say now. Should he apologize for taking her in his arms while the night? He sighed. She too had turned to wrap her arms around him. Or maybe he should just wait and see how things would go, avoiding this way to shatter their friendship so quickly.

Stella stared at the gleaming river; turquoise playing with flashes of green and blue, just like his eyes, she noted with a smile. So much in these gleaming pools that she wondered if she would ever be able to see the bottom of it, though she didn't mind getting lost in them. She turned and caught Mac watching her with a light frown, his eyes reflecting the depth of his soul. _One day, Mac, I will know enough to change that worried look into happiness with just one smile, _her mind whispered.

His lips tight, Mac looked at her with a mix of guilt and remorse, hoping she wasn't going to ask him why he had wrapped his arms around her last night, and telling him that it wasn't appropriate, even for best friends. He swallowed lightly, but her eyes went back to the river, and no words were exchanged. And then, a strange idea occurred in his mind. Maybe she had appreciated that night as much as him. Maybe she was happy about it too. He frowned, hoping and praying this could be true. But right now, he had no way to know since she was now standing up and not looking at him. _Or maybe she's pissed off,_ his mind added in dread. _That would explain why she's not talking. _He winced, hoping it wasn't the case.

She went to the river and crouched near the slow, rustling waters fingering over the rounded, grey stones on the bank. Her hands plunged in the fresh water, delighting with the contact of the clear, pure water between her fingers. She took a deep breath and was greeted by the fresh, flowery scent of dawn. She could smell the shy presence of the first flower blossoming to catch the sun, and the humid smoky scent of the forest lingering in the air. A small chill ran down her spine as she was caught by the humid, morning dew. Steps echoed behind her as Mac's boots crushed the gravel. And then, as if it was all too natural, his warm shoulder grazed hers when he crouched near her, and the chill instantly vanished, replaced by his warmth. She silently thanked him for being so present when she needed him, and at the same time always careful not to invade her space. She sighed in delight, wondering what life would be if finally they had strong feelings toward each other.

He glanced shyly toward Stella seeing her shivering, and leaned just a bit closer to ensure she would get some of his heat without him invading too much of her space. He didn't dare to touch her arms, not with what had happened last night. If she had got up without a word it wasn't foolish to assume she didn't want more from him. But at least, he could help her not to get too cold, without having her pressed against him. He tightened his lips, trying to block the pain from feeling her so close like last night, and at the same time unable to wrap his arms around her in fear it would break their friendship. He couldn't deny it was a delighting feeling to feel the soft touch of her skin brushing his shoulder. Hell, it was not just a delight. He craved to feel her body pressed against him. He sighed inwardly, hoping she would forgive him for all his late, awkward moves. Quickly, he sprinkled water on his face and neck, and felt the morning chill coursing through his body. _It feels good to be back here anyway, _his mind softly wet fingers brushed his hair back, and he shyly glanced at Stella before looking back at the river.

"So what's next?" She asked gently, suddenly breaking the quiet morning as she sprinkled the cold water on her face like him. She shivered again, but this time, Mac comforting heat warmed her body immediately.

He raked his throat and gave her a warm smile. _Back to friends already,_ his mind shot with regrets. "Well, I thought we could slowly pack and hit the road. Then we can have breakfast on the road?" he waited anxiously for her answer. She was still pressed against him and he could feel his cheeks starting to blush from her close proximity and mostly because this time she was awake. _What if she liked to be there against me? What if she's waiting for me to make a move? _His mind threw furiously in expectations. _And what happened if I blew out our ten year friendship because she didn't want to be that close of me?_ He thought in misery. No, it was too risky, he had to wait until she knew all.

She frowned, not sure she wanted to leave this beautiful forest and the quiet place that was helping her to keep her partner for herself. "We still have some leftovers from yesterday. I mean, we can finish it and then go back on the road," she said, hoping to delay the moment when she would have to share Mac with the world again.

He looked at her with a puzzled stare. Was she afraid now of going to their destination? Trying to delay their departure there and maybe she would ask him to bring her back to New York after breakfast? Cleverly telling him that his move from the night had been more than friendly and she didn't want more? He sighed. Did he have just screwed the entire weekend and their friendship along the way? _Damn it, Mac!_ He scolded himself, wincing at the perspective of having lost her. _Now everything's over._ His lips tight, he nodded, feeling the weight of the heavy judgement on his shoulders. A big lump formed in his throat as he stood up and walked toward his bike to pick up their food. _So be it, then_, he sadly thought.

Stella saw the shadow returning in Mac's eyes before he went back to his bike, and wondered if it was really bugging him to remain with her in this beautiful place. Surely, it wasn't or he wouldn't have brought her here. But why could she see some pain behind his eyes? She sighed, maybe just some old thoughts that had nothing to do with her. She shook her head, hoping she was right.

His back to Stella, Mac winced slightly as the dried dressing rubbed his stitches._ Damn it._ He had forgotten to change the dressing after their improvised bath, and now that it was dry the fabric had probably stuck to his stitches. Pouting, he just hoped he hadn't reopened them again when he had played with Stella. He sighed. Dr Shen was really going to be pissed off this time. Rummaging through his bag, he picked up the bags of dried cranberries, bagels and smoked meat, remembering that they had left the crackers and marshmallow near the fire last night. Though, he didn't think she would go for the latter this morning. Then, he picked up a small towel, and went back to the dead fire. Without a word, he gave the towel to Stella and she stared back with a questioning look. He shook his head. He didn't need to dry, he was burning enough, and the cold water wasn't helping him to really cool down his fever. With a small sigh, he sat a good yard from her. Remembering that her proposition to stay could mean that she was giving up on their weekend and was trying to find a subtle way to gently pull back. He sighed inwardly, whatever she had in mind, he didn't want to piss her off more by an awkward move again. So he lay the items between them, his sight avoiding her frowning stare.

Slowly, she dried her face in the towel, her eyes peering between the soft waves formed by the creamy towel to check on him. His face was still glistening from the fresh water and he seemed to be avoiding her eyes again. What was happening right now? Why his eyes were avoiding her? Had she said something wrong? Maybe he had a tight scheduled and wanted to get back on the road quickly?

"You okay, Mac?" she asked, her voice careful.

He clenched his jaw. _Good job, Mac._ _Now you gonna make her feel guilty for pulling over from this weekend._ "Nah," he answered, trying to sound casual. "Just didn't think you'd like a breakfast with so little." He lied, his throat still too tight to give her more lies.

"Well, as long as it's in a charming place like this and with a more charming man, I don't see how I couldn't be satisfied." She grinned, hoping her words would cheer him up, and to her surprise it seemed to work as he raised on her a curious look.

_Satisfied, _his mind repeated, his brows quirking a little. _Charming man? So she's not pissed at me. _A small smile tugged at his lips as he looked up and his green, ocean pools connected with hers for the first time this morning. Slowly, his tight stomach stopped his churning twists, the burning pain fading away. She graced his eyes of a wide, gentle smile, lighting her face, and all his doubts for this weekend slowly left his heart. Curiously, he realized his breathing too was easier as he had felt tensed since she had turned her back on him to go to the river.

"Sorry," he said softly, swallowing back his sorrow.

She frowned wondering of what he was talking about. "What for, Mac?"

He sighed and grabbed the bag of bagels. Avoiding her stare again, he tightened his lips, while he opened the bag of small breads. "Well, for..." he hesitated. "I..." he took a deep breath and handed her the bag, still avoiding her eyes.

She stared at him, wondering what was keeping him from talking now. _Sorry,_ her mind echoed. Why was he feeling guilty again? Her lips tight, she waited in silence as she grabbed a small bread from the bag. Slowly, she watched him taking back the bag and picking one too. Without a word, he bit into the tender bread and looked at the river in front of them.

After a long minute of silence, his voice finally broke through the soft wind whispering in the pine trees.

"My dad always said this place was full of magic," he stated. He looked at Stella, his lips tight in remorse. "And I'm just realizing how much he was right." A soft smile grazed his lips, hoping she would understand him. Yes, this night had been magic for him. He had shared a unique moment of warm love and comfort with his best friend, and he just prayed life would give him the opportunity for many more to come.

"Wise man," she quipped, still searching through his green, ocean pools to see if he was going to be okay. "And where the magic is coming from?" she asked, hoping to drift his mind to a lighter subject.

He smiled lightly, understanding what she was doing, and deep inside he was grateful for her delicate attention to keep his mind out of the darkness that tended to drag him down. "Well, it comes from the spirit that inhabits this place."

"The spirit?" she quipped, amused. "Like ghost or something." She teased him. _Mac Taylor talking about ghost, _her mind marveled. This was just more and more surprising.

He grinned lightly. "Yep, Indian spirit."

Her face beamed at the playful attitude he was back on. With a smile, she bit into the tender bread and waited for his explanation she knew was coming.

His sight caressed her face, and he shyly looked back at the shining river, the sun piercing up the crown of the tree line behind the river. An eagle took off, shaking the pine tree where he was standing. Mac gazed with a smile as the beautiful bird graced the air, and glided slowly toward the glistening river. Then, the king of the sky pushed lightly on the tip of its wings to get higher, in a perfect harmony with its environment, its wings softly grazed the water leaving a small trail on the surface before it went up.

"Well." His gaze followed the eagle now flying with grace toward the shining, yellow disc. "When I was a kid, my dad told me a story, and I guess I thought it was just to reassure me and to erase my fears from the night, but ..."

"You, Mac Taylor, afraid?" Stella quipped, her eyes wide with a mischievous grin piercing through her sparkling emeralds. "Can't believe that."

He grinned at the confidence she had in him. "Well, believe me or not, but I spent a terrifying night here and ..." He stopped as she was looking at him with a frown. He nodded lightly with a sheepish smile. "Alright, alright, I'll start from the beginning I guess."

"That would be great, Mac, cause right now I'm kinda lost. Indian spirit and you afraid, all of this sounds really too new and weird to me." She chukled and gave him a light wink.

His lips tight, he glanced at her with a slight frown as if he was serious again. "Well, you remember I told you about my dad training me." She nodded in agreement and he continued. "One evening, I went to get woods for the fire, and although my dad had told me to be careful and to avoid certain places, I kinda went there."

"Yeah, just by accident," she mused, knowing that curiosity would have picked her up too if she had been in this place. "How old were ya?"

"I was ten, and it was my first week here. So I wanted to do some recon." He grinned remembering his first impression in the forest. The smoky scent enveloping his senses and the soft whisper of the wind in his ears.

"That is very practical, marine." she teased with a big smile. _So like him to recon._ "Were you wearing your fatigues?" He blushed and she knew the answer was yes. She let out a soft chuckle and encourage him to resume his story.

"So I walked in the forest, gathering wood and after a while I ended up near the Old Man Creek," his voice trailed off, his mind visibly back there.

"Is it not the place the seller advised us not to go?" She asked, feeling dread slowly creeping up inside her stomach. _Dangerous place, terrifying night, and Mac in the middle._ She cringed inwardly. That didn't sound that good.

He sighed with a small nod. "It is."

"So what happened?" Her fear confirmed by his admission.

He looked down to his small bread and sighed. "Well, you have to know first that the Old Man Creek is a giant fall, forty feet high, filling a small cobalt, blue pond surrounded by..."

She interrupted him with a smirk. "Cobalt blue? Where did you get that definition?"

He gave her a small grin. "Comics," he said, one brow rose shyly. "I was reading the Avengers at the time." A sheepish smile graced his face. "And well, Captain America was kinda one of my favorites."

"I bet." She whistled. "Never thought you read comics."

"Well, I'm mostly normal like everyone, I just changed when I put my costume of CSI," he quipped with a mischievous smile. "Though I don't read them anymore. Kinda drop that when I entered college."

She nodded. "So you went to this fall, and..."

He looked at her, wondering if he was right to tell her. This story was long, and she might not be interested by the adventure of a ten year old, especially one showing his own failure. He sighed, seeing that she was staring at him and obviously waiting for him to resume. He bit his lower lip with a small wince and resumed his story.

"So it's a small, cobalt, blue pond," he repeated with a genuine smile. "Surrounded by a magnificent vegetation where all animals of the forest gathered to drink and..."

She frowned as she cut him of again. "You, lost track of time?" She teased, her amused smile lighting her face. She couldn't believed what he was saying; the brilliant, smart ass Mac Taylor could actually indulge himself in contemplation. _Oh God,_ she was just loving to hear him talk like this.

He smiled sheepishly and his hand lightly rubbed the back of his neck. "I was so engrossed by watching the animals drinking and the birds and,...well, I kinda slipped from the top." He closed his eyes, remembering the painful fall where he couldn't stop his body, and the hammering bang exploding in his head when he had hit the cold water. The cold liquid had quickly sucked the air out of his lungs while he was heavily sinking toward the bottom of the pond.

"Well, what happened Mac?" she asked now worried by his childhood predicament.

He sighed. "I kinda hit my head against a rock underneath the water and when I tried to come back to the surface I couldn't as I was still under the fall. So, I panicked, gulped down a lot of water and gave all I had to get out of the gushing waters falling down over me. Almost out of breath, I was finally able to swim under the pressing waters. When I reached the bank I had gulped down as much waters my lungs could contain, though I managed to spill most of it out right away. I crumbled on the shore of stones. I was too drain to do anything else, so I remained there, messily sprawled on the shore." He sighed, his frown heavy. "When I woke up I was frozen and the night had settled in." Stella gave him a worried look, her lips tight.

_He almost __drowned that day, _her mind shot in horror. She took a deep breath, unable to imagine what would have been her life if fate had decided to take him that day. _Oh God. _"But your dad found you, right?" She asked, her heart starting to beat faster in her chest, even though it was an old story, and he was safe and sound with her right now.

"Not right away." He clenched his teeth, remembering the painful night, trying to get some warmth from his freezing, wet clothes while he was waiting, his leg hurting the most. He sighed. "I should have listened to my dad and stuck on the road, as he had told me." He looked straight into her beautiful emeralds. "When you're lost, you don't move. You stay right where you are." His lips tight, he avoided Stella's worried stare. "But I didn't listen any of his advices. I ran madly to go back to the camp, thinking I would be able to find the road on my own." He sighed. "I was tired and unable to think straight and I stepped in a hole in the darkness and I broke my leg."

Her eyes widened. Really, this story was just getting scarier as he was telling it. She could understand better his faith in rules, now. If as a kid he had been in misery because he hadn't followed orders, then, that was a tough lesson. _One you'd never forget._

"After that, it was hard to walk, but I managed to keep going. I had seen a deer and I don't know, my gut just told me to follow it."

No way, he had walked at ten with a broken leg, by night, and near freezing cold. _Oh God, Mac_. She wanted so much right now to step next to him and take him in her arms to reassure the scared kid he had been back then. But she didn't move, afraid it would jeopardize their friendship and since he was a bit too far from her, she couldn't even pat his shoulder. Her lips tight, she winced inwardly. "Where did you end up?" She finally asked worrying for the little, scared boy he must have been at the time.

"You gonna smile, but, that deer led me to a small cave. There I found what was the remain of an old campfire." He smiled. "And the most surprising was that I found an old blanket too." He raised his brows as if he was still surprised of his luck at the time. "So I wrapped myself into it, and since the campfire had some pieces of woods, I made a fire."

She looked at him, impressed. "So it does become handy," she quipped with admiration.

"Yep. I drifted off to sleep, and when I woke up my dad was there with four other men. They had seen the smoke from the dying fire in the morning, and had come to check."

"Wow, Mac. I'm really sorry. This must have been..."

His hand shaved the air as if it had been nothing. But deep inside the memory was still vivid and burning him. "It was a long time ago, Stell, and I learned to be more careful after that."

She nodded. "So, your dad told you about the Indian spirit because," she shook her head, not seeing the link there.

He chuckled lightly. "After a trip to the local ER, and me being patched up, we came back and settled for another night. And then, he told me that he was glad he had chosen this place, because the spirit that inhabited it had listened to his prayers." He shook his head as his eyes crossed hers, surprised. "I too was surprised by his admission. I,...Well, my dad had never been a big believer."

"But your dad is not indian either, I mean..." she frowned. What did he really mean by Indian spirit?

"No he's not, but during World War II, he had met a guy who were, and he told him that wherever old tribes have settled their camp it was near a magical field." He stared at the shining water as the sun was bathing half of the clearing now. "I guessed he had never believed it until that day." He glanced at Stella shyly. "My dad said he had prayed and asked to find me alive, and," he frowned as his voice trailed off and he bit his lower lip. "He even asked the forest to protect me." He grinned, his hand timidly rubbing his neck. "I know it sounds silly, but..."

"But you think that maybe you're safe because the forest look out for you," she finished for him, thinking.

He shrugged. "Well, if I hadn't seen that deer and followed that intuition. I mean...I wasn't in a good shape, Stell, and the odds for my dad and the other guys to find me before a bear was really thin." He bit his lower lip. "I really got lucky."

"A bear, why?" Her eyes widened with this new element.

"Bears have a good smell, and sometimes if they can smell blood in two miles around, well, you better not be there when they find you." His lips tight, he avoided her worried gaze. He knew this story had worried her, but it happened a long time ago, and he had learned a lot from it.

She shivered at the news. "I...I didn't know." Suddenly, she could see a small boy, dark brown hair, alone in the night, and with a broken leg, scuffling through the forest a bear racing furiously behind him; its red eyes gleaming through the night as the animal lashed out its gigantic weigth on the small boy before... _Oh God. _She closed her eyes at the dark picture of what could have been his fate.

He chuckled nervously, trying to light the mood. "Yeah, I too, or I would have panicked even more."

A small smile grazed her lips as she realized he seemed to think about it with ease, though her own heart was still beating madly from that terrifying image her mind had given her. "So you think the forest watched over you."

He smiled lightly. "I don't know, but it's a pleasant thing to think about. And it's true I do feel great when I'm here."

_When I'm here._ She frowned. "You're not in New York?" she asked feeling her stomach tightened in dread. Was it why he had wanted to live this weekend, to go far from New York while his mind was obviously struggling with dark problems?

He shook his head, reassuring Stella. "New York...is different." He paused, his green, ocean eyes gently setting on her.

A small shiver ran down her spine at the intense gaze he gave her, as if he wanted to tell her something really important. But then, he blinked and looked unsure, his lips tight with hesitation.

"There're other reasons there for me to feel great." He sighed deeply. "Other...reasons," he repeated with a small whisper as his eyes left hers to look at the blue river. And the reason was her, but he couldn't tell her that. He couldn't put pressure on her and oblige her to make a choice and break their friendship. He had no right to ask that from her. She had the right to have a real normal life. So, he mustered his most charming smile and glanced back at her.

She winced inwardly at the pain she could see as his shoulders sagged from an invisible defeat before he looked back with a fake smile. Obviously, he didn't want her to linger on this too long. Acknowledging his choice, she continued with another question. "But why did you want to avoid the Old Man Creek?"

"Nope, I didn't. I love that place," he gave her a boyish grin as she looked at him stunned.

_This time,_ she noted he really grinned, it wasn't fake. "Even though you almost drown there?" She couldn't believe his words. The more it was scary and dangerous, the more he had loved it. He had never changed then, always running where angels fear to tread.

"Maybe why. I don't know." He sighed, and gave her a small smile. "I guess this place has just a lot of memories buried."

"Oh, yeah, other Mac's adventures through the woods?" she asked eagerly, wanting to know more about his past and this amazing place where she would have surely loved to spend her time as a kid. She was too, a dare devil like him. A mischievous smile spread over her face. Well, if they had met as kids they would have probably torn down a lot of rules and brushed death more time than once. _What an infernal pair_. She grinned at the thought.

He chuckled. "Maybe another day." He said, avoiding the subject. _Yes, Stell, maybe another day._ _Wouldn't want to scare you too much today._ _Nope, today is definitely scary enough for me and will probably be for you too._ His lips tight in dread, he observed her, wondering if he was right to do it. Was it really the good time? Would she still be his friend at the end of this day?

She looked at Mac who was giving her a shy glance. She shivered not knowing why. His look was strange almost painful, as he seemed to be struggling with himself, as if pondering his fate. _What's going Mac? What can make you hurt like that?_ Then, he looked away, his lips tight as if he was trying to block a soaring pain from within. He stayed like that for a long moment as she kept observing him, her anxiety rising as he hadn't made a move. But then, his head sagged slowly before him while he took a deep, painful breath, and she knew that whatever was keeping his mind into darkness had just harshly stabbed his heart. It was time to cheer him up and get him out of this terrible load.

She raked her throat before speaking. "Why is it, you don't speak like that at the Lab? You know, about wilderness and the magic of the forest?" she asked with a shy smile, hoping he was going to take the bait. Though, she was curious by his answer too.

He frowned as his gaze focused on her and he seemed to be alive again. "I guess I always thought people would think I'm crazy." He sighed, well he was sure they would think he was crazy, maybe even Stella. _Hell._ Sometimes even him thought he was. "Besides, our work demands that I remain focused on the evidence and that I leave my heart out of it, otherwise," he paused, his lips tight. "If I don't do it, how can I ask that from my team? Or from you?"

He gently winked and she smiled back at the reference of her own misadventures every time she had let her heart drive a case.

"So I..." He continued.

"You let your heart aside and give a cold brooding face to the world," she added, remembering the numerous time when he had shelled back in his office after a tough case.

"Something like that." He sighed. "That's what the world expects from me. What Sinclair does. What Gerrard did. With guys like them I can't show them my back a second or... or..." His voice trailed off as his mind gave him examples of what could happen to his team if he lost his fight.

"Or you think you won't be able to protect the team and the city," she finished for him, knowing it was the truth. He was feeling responsible for so many people in his life that he had just forgotten to take care of himself. _All alone,_ her mind whispered in pain. He nodded, his lips tight as if he had been found guilty of stealing his mother's freshly, baked apple pie. But the truth was more terrible. He wasn't guilty of doing anything wrong. No. He was just trying so hard to be there for everyone and to do everything right that he had no time to really live for himself. He was giving his life for his city, for his country, not even asking for a reward. Always trying to do good.

"I know, it sounds silly, and..." he rubbed his face with a deep sigh, not sure he should have told her the truth.

"It's not Mac." She sighed, and saw his shoulders sagged in relief at her answer. _Is he so nervous about what I might think of him?_ "I've seen what politics and petty game can do to people. And honestly I'm not discovering the real you today, ya know. I kinda hoped for a long time to see it emerge, though I never thought you hid it consciously for these reasons." She shook her head, and gave him a concerned look. "Now I understand better." She sighed. "No rest for the wicked, right?" She smirked, trying to ease the subject.

"Huh, I guess not." He nodded, feeling somewhat relieve that she could understand his ambiguous position as the head of the Crime Lab.

She let the silence lingered between them for a minute before she spoke again."But remember that you're not alone, okay? Maybe you have been alone in this forest a long time ago, and honestly I'm glad the spirit or the ghost of the forest or whatever protected you that day, because, really, I don't know what I would do if you were not in my life," she stated with a firm stare and a warm smile.

He looked back at Stella, not sure she was right. Without him, she might have ended up with his job and her life could have turned up very differently. He frowned. Though, her heart would have led her in some dark alleys and she could have died alone. He closed his eyes, sure he never wanted that for her. So maybe she was right. Maybe he had been a good thing in her life. He sighed. But whatever they were for each other, his heart was afraid they could never pass that invisible barrier that they had traced a long time ago.

Then, suddenly, Stella stood up and her heart beating in her throat she crossed the space that separated them. She crouched before him, her hands grabbed his, and she nestled them between hers. Without a word, her thumb slowly stroke the back of his hand as her sparkling emeralds connected with his green ocean. She marveled once again as the light green slowly faded to be replaced by a blue, blazing sapphire.

"You are not alone, Mac," she continued, trying to muster a gentle smile to soothe all the pain she could see lingering in the depth of his eyes.

His lips tight in remorse, he looked at her in torment. He had been alone all his life, even Claire had deserted him in her way. He knew Stella was there when he needed to talk, but how could he ask her anything? She had suffered enough in her life, she didn't need his burden too.

She nodded slowly, seeing the inner turmoil darkening his eyes. She had been wrong all along. He wasn't in pain because of a small problem due to a case. No. It was something buried deeper and that he had never shown her before. Something so terrifying even for him that it scared her to see all this pain gathered only in his weary eyes.

"I'm here for you partner, and as long as I breathe, I'll have your back." She gave his hands a gentle squeeze.

A shadow lingered behind Mac's eyes_. As long as I breathe, _his mind echoed in dread. He swallowed as dark visions surged into his mind. He could see Stella lying dead and not breathing, stabbed by that freaking, damned perp because he had arrived too late. Or that damned axe whipping the air and impaling her fragile body before him. He swallowed the hard knot formed in his throat from these awful vision his mind kept playing over and over in his head, when she wasn't there with him. _I can't ask you to protect __me Stella,__ you did so much for me already, _his mind shot in sorrow. _I don't want you to get hurt or finish lonely like me._ _I don't want to lose you,_ his heart screamed in pain. He squeezed back, trying to shave the pain away. He couldn't let her see his pain. He couldn't draw her into his dark world. So he did the only thing he knew. He shelled back and gave her a small chuckle, trying not to let her see the dark thoughts that had come back to eat at him.

"Well, since you can see so much through me that I'm an open book, can you guess why?" He lightly joked, hoping she would be too busy trying to figure out the answer that she wouldn't notice his torment.

She shyly smiled, her hands squeezing even more his. "Because you love so much with your heart, that you're afraid that if people see it, it would be crushed right away. So you hide it so deep that even you, can't find it sometimes."

Taken aback, he looked at her, stunned by her words. _Shouldn't have asked her to answer to that,_ he realized as her eyes were now searching his face for any indication she had been wrong. He frowned. "I guess, I can't escape you." He dropped in dread with a small sigh, not sure he liked that idea. Maybe he shouldn't talk to her today. If she could see so much in him, maybe if they were still friends and nothing more then, it might explain why she had never come forward and had stayed away from him. He swallowed the hard knot back in his throat. What if she had preferred to ignore him all this time? Then, what would happen after he had talked to her?

Stella stared at his eyes now covered by a thick, grey veil. _Back again in your tormented world, Mac?_ she noted painfully, her stomach churning in pain. She softly brushed the back of his hand, hoping to bring back some sparkle into his eyes.

"Ready to hit the road?" he finally said, after a while, hoping to break this awkward moment as she was still crouched before him. He let out a heavy sigh, his hands escaping hers. He could feel his body hungry to take her in his arms and pressed her against him. He needed to feel her. But it was too soon, or probably too late, either way, tonight he would know what his future would be. He stood up and took an awkward step back. He needed to breathe, to clear his mind, otherwise he would do a big mistake with her right now, tramping down their friendship.

She nodded softly as he kept avoiding her stare. Her lips tight, and a deep pang tearing at her heart, she stood up and waited for him to talk. She could feel his need for space, and although it hurt her to give him that space, she couldn't go against his choice.

"Could you put back the stones on the bank?" he asked on a soft tone pointing at the stones she had arranged for the fire the day before.

She nodded and turned toward the dead fire a sad look. Behind her, Mac stuffed the rest of the food in one of his bags and grabbed a small empty can and went to the river to fill it with water. With surprise she saw him pouring the cold liquid over the cold ashes of their campfire few seconds later.

"You need to check if it's alive," she quipped with a smirk as the water sent some particles of grey dust into the air. Still watching him, she went to pick up their clothes that they had laid on the grass to dry. Quickly, she rolled them together in a ball and stuffed them inside a bag. They would have to sort them out later. Biting her lower lip, she couldn't help but envy her clothes now nestled with Mac's, his soft, male scent strongly present.

"Actually, lots of fire happened because the fire smoldered and people didn't take the time to really extinguish it. So..." he said as he went back to the river, without noticing her mind drifting away.

She frowned and looked back at him as she closed the bag.

He filled the can again, and jogged back. "So, it's better to be sure it's not gonna burn when we'll be gone." He dropped more water on the old fire, and finally his eyes settled on her surprised expression. He quirked his brows, trying to muster a real smile. "Something my dad taught me." He took a deep breath and tried to focus on a happy memory with his dad. He had to find a way back for a happy weekend, for Stella's sake he had to. He couldn't dwell on his dark past.

She noted with hope that a small smile played over his lips at the evocation of his father. She could see how hard he was fighting to push back the darkness from his mind and get back to a playful attitude, probably for her. She sighed inwardly, knowing that Mac had never done anything for himself. She wanted so much to help him to fight that, but every time she had come closer he had inexorably taken two steps back. _Why?_

"So ready?" he asked again, this time his green, ocean eyes connected with hers as he gave her a shy smile.

Her face lighted at the small sparkle slowly returning in his eyes. _Back on the road again, with Mac Taylor and his secrets. Of course I'm in. _She quipped inwardly. "So, we should arrive today, right?" she asked feeling suddenly very excited, wondering where he was taking her. Since the start he had been very mysterious about it. Avoiding any talk when the discussion headed this way. She grinned inwardly, it had to be something pretty amazing for him to hide it like that. She quirked her brows, wondering if it could be because he was nervous that she knew before hand. But then, wherever he was taking her, she was going to find out quickly.

"Yep, in a few hours." He lightly grinned. "Then, let's go." He stuffed the empty bottle into his bag and gave her her helmet. He shyly smiled and turned the bike to push it on the small path, trying as much as he could to clear his mind from his dark thougths. _Back on the road, Mac. C'mon, do your best for this day to be the more memorable, at least after you'll have talk to her, you'll have no regrets, then._ His lips tight, he looked down at the green grass. _You never know what might happen next._

Slowly, the bike moved forward and then followed his thrust as he walked forward, his broad shoulders giving the needed impulsion.

With a quick glance behind him, Mac checked that Stella was following him. He gave her a small smile and looked back ahead. He sighed inwardly. Today again, his mind had drifted toward darkness he thought he had buried for the weekend, but obviously, forgetting about it was out of order. He shook his head. Finally, this day was going to be harder than he thought, especially if his mind was playing tricks on him like that.

They left the clearing to enter the humid forest and were immediately greeted by the humming songs of loving, male birds parading. His lips tight, he stared at the small birds as he continued to push his bike. _If only things could be that simple,_ his mind whispered in doubts. _If only._

Stella watched intrigued as Mac seemed to be lost in his thoughts again. Without a word exchanged, they slowly entered the cold shadow of the forest, and she shivered. She frowned, she had forgotten to take the leather vest Mac had given her the day before. It was now in one of the bags and she didn't dare to interrupt his thoughts. He needed to clear his mind more than anything, and obviously her effort to cheer him up had not worked very long. She shivered involuntarily again, the weather quite warm in the clearing was just the opposite underneath the cover of the trees. She could feel the cold humidity slowly sneaking up over the unprotected skin of her arms. Instinctively, she brought her arms around her to get some warmth back. Then, stupefied, she saw Mac stopping the bike and turning to her with a remorseful pout, his hand rubbing his neck.

"Sorry, Stell," he apologized as he pulled her vest from one of the bags and with a careful move, wrapped it around her shoulders. His hands gently rubbed her arms, hoping to bring more warmth quickly. And again, his heart accelerated in his chest, his breath becoming short as his eyes connected with hers, and he realized what he had just done. He was standing facing her, mere inches of her face, her warm breath tickling his neck as she was looking at him. "I..." he stammered in remorse, his brows creased. He could see her emeralds questioning him. But he had no answer. "I guess you should be okay with that," he finished with a small breath, before he quickly retreated to the bike. He swallowed the lump in his throat and with a deep sigh pushed on the handle to move forward.

She remained puzzled in the middle of the small trail. _How did he know that I was cold?_ She wondered. _He constantly kept his back to me, how...?_ But then, her trail of thoughts realized how. She closed her eyes for a second, and a mischievous smile grazed her lips at the answer. Staring at his back, she followed his strong frame, her sight wandering toward the rear mirror of the bike and caught Mac watching her with an intense stare. She saw him realized she had seen him and his eyes quickly went back on the road. _What the...? What's going on with him_? _At some moments, he can't look at me, and when I think he's a hundred miles shelling back, I catch him observing me. Mac you're really worrying me. What is it that scares you so much?_ She shook her head. No, something was wrong with him, and it wasn't since this morning. It's been a week now that he was behaving so weirdly when he was around her. _Is that me? Do I make him so uncomfortable at some moments that he has to find other ways to look at me?_ Her lips tight, she looked down at the ground, staring at her boots while she continued to follow the trail.

Mac pouted at the awkward move he had done again. His mind had printed her stunned face as he had wrapped that jacket around her shoulders. He bent down to avoid a long thick branch covered with protruding dead spikes that the wind had lashed toward him. He sighed. She hadn't said a word, and she was still deep in her thoughts, he noted as he looked at the rear mirror of the bike and observed her. A small smile played on his lips as his eyes lingered on the soft curves of her face. Although she had caught him looking at her a minute ago, he couldn't stop himself. He knew that their friendship was really on the balance today. He tightened his lips, hoping everything turns fine and she wasn't going to get scared by what he wanted to show her. He didn't want to hide anything from her, not anymore, and somehow he knew he was taking a very big risk. The risk of his life, his mind added in dread. _Yes. I hope she'll..._but he interrupted his trail of thoughts as he saw her looking down and walking straight to the dead branch and its dangerous spikes. Then, before his eyes, the branch turned into a deadly axe fending the air toward Stella and fear coldly gripped at his heart.

Without thinking he let his bike fall and spin to run toward her. His heart was beating madly as he pushed on his legs with all his strength. He watched with dread the axe whipping the air and heading toward Stella. He screamed her name in full panic and stepped in front of the axe before it could hit her. His blood rushing behind his temples, he wrapped his arms around her and tightened his hold, tensing from the awaited impact of the blade.

When Stella looked up, hearing Mac's panicked voice, she really thought something bad had happened. She had never heard him scream like that. But then, in a matter of second she was pressed against his strong chest, his arms ensnaring her in a protective shield, and his head nestled against her cheek. She swallowed as she felt him tensed and wanted to hug him back but he had caught her arms against him and she just couldn't move nor see. And then, she felt it. Something hit Mac's back and he slanted forward taking her with him. He stumbled a few feet and then remained up. His arms tightened more around her as he began to slightly tremble. His breath was short and rasping, as if he was trying to catch his breath.

"Mac?" she muffled, her face pressed tightly against his chest. She could hear his rapid heart beating in his chest, and for a moment, she feared it was going to explode.

He breathed loudly, his head snuggled against Stella's cheek. His heart was racing in his chest, and he had a hard time to breathe. He swallowed back his fear as the blow hit him right in the back. He stumbled slowly, but managed to remain on his feet. He wasn't dead, his mind realized with surprise. But that axe should have cut him in half. Why was he still alive? He breathed loudly, trying to clear his mind. But then, Stella called his name, and the world came back to life around him. He could feel her head pressed against him; hear her muffled voice as her mouth was stuck to his sweater; feel her warm breath tickling his neck as she shifted slightly in his arms. _She's alive,_ his mind shot with joy. _She's alive._

Slowly, he loosened his grip around her, and realized where they were, in the forest and not in that damned death house. He released the breath he was holding, still shaking a little. He swallowed slowly, taking a step back from her, and winced as he finally felt the blow in his back; the small dead branches still nastily poking his tender back. His lips emitted a small grunt and he looked down as Stella was staring at him, fear filling her eyes.

"Mac? You scared me. What happened? Why did you do that?" She questioned, her heart racing in her chest at the fear that had invaded his eyes..

But he couldn't answer. He tried but only a faint word escaped his mouth. "I..." he whispered, avoiding her stare. His hand searched behind him to push the branch from his ribs and give him some space from Stella. His fingers quickly found the rough skin of the dead branch and pushed it away as he turned to face it. Then, without a word, he released slowly his grip and the branch went back where he had stood minutes ago, right in front of Stella but not touching her.

She watched amazed as Mac had closed his mouth in a small gasp and was now heading for his bike messily lay on the ground. She swallowed her fear as her mind was trying to make senses at what had just happened. Her eyes stared at the branch before her and then painfully lingered on Mac's back. She noticed with sorrow the sweater slightly cut at different places. What had he done? Her lips tight, she bent to avoid the branch waving slowly in the air, and stopped behind Mac. Her eyes were glued to his back, and her heart wrenched in pain, as the thin cut let appear thin red dots smearing his sweater. _Blood_, her mind shot in despair.

"You're hurt?" she stated with a mix of pain and anger. Why had he done that? She didn't need to be protected. She was strong enough. That branch would have just thrown her backward and she would have been good for a good private joke in the start of next week. So why rushing to protect her from that? She frowned it wasn't like him to play hero when there was no real need for it. She looked still stunned as he didn't answer and raised his bike to its wheels, his face flushed. But she wasn't sure it was from the effort than his last awkward move.

_She's alive,_ his mind repeated like a comforting litany. _She's okay. It was just a painful dream._ She's right here and you haven't lost her. _C'mon, Mac. You got to get back to your feet. _He shook his head and glanced at the rear mirror. Then, he realized her lips were moving and she was talking to him. He blinked and her touch on his arm stopped him.

"Mac, you're bleeding," stated Stella with worries as he seemed still lost in his thoughts. It was only when her fingers wrapped around his right arm, she realized how deep his mind had plunged again. His eyes were filled with a deep pain beneath the green, ocean pool of his. Her heart wrenched in pain at the tormented gaze he gave her when the veil covering his eyes finally left. "Mac, you okay?" she whispered softly, not wanting to add to his already stressed body.

He took a deep breath and mustered a tight smile. "Yeah, fine. Sorry if I scared you." He sighed, looking back at the road ahead, his jaw clenched. How could he tell her that his tired mind had played a bad joke on him and he had seen that damned axe fending the air to kill her. His lips tight, he glanced quickly at her, before his hand squeezed the handle. His knuckles turned white but he couldn't stop. He needed to let that fear of losing her going somewhere.

"Mac, talk to me?" she said as her fingers gently squeezed his arm.

"I'm okay, Stell, really."

"No, you're not and..."she stopped as the trail exited the wild forest and they were back on a clear, soil path. Mac jumped on the occasion to slip into his vest and deepened his helmet on his head. Quickly, his jacket was zipped up and he had slid his shades over his nose, assuring his sight to be protected from her enquiring eyes. "Mac?" she repeated in misery as he sat on the bike. Decided not to let it go, she stepped to his side, and her hands gently rested on his neck. He instantly shivered under her touch, and his face turned to her. Even with his shades on she could feel the pain soaring from his being, it was gnawing at him with rage, not giving him a minute to rest. _When would he be in peace, _her heart prayed, _when?_

His shoulders rose as he took a deep breath and his warm hand covered hers before he removed it. He cuddled it between his and looked up at Stella. "Really, Stell, I'm fine."

She watched as his lips formed a faint smile to reassure her.

"Let's go," he whispered, hoping she wasn't going to press him more to ask why. He wasn't ready to admit to her that her death was the scariest thing he was facing by night and now by day. She would surely think he was crazy and obsessed with her and he couldn't deny it as she would have been right. He was obsessed he could lose her. And that only idea was paralyzing him. He had lost Claire once. He couldn't lose her too. He wouldn't allow it. If for Claire he had been unable to save her or even die with her, he wasn't ready to let that happen with Stella. No matter what she would think of him in the end, he wanted to make sure she would be alright. And right now, his nightmare could easily hurt her too, so no. He wasn't ready to tell her. _Hell, no!_ Letting go of her hands, he looked down and pressed on the engine which roared softly.

"Mac, I know there's something bugging you," she shouted over the roaring as he turned the handle and made his engine noisily screamed.

"Are you ready?" he shouted, knowing the noise would discourage her to talk.

Pouting, she had no choice but slip her helmet on. She slid behind him, her arms snaking naturally around him. For a minute, he tensed under her touch before he finally relaxed, but this time she could feel his heart hadn't skipped in his chest as usual, since it was already pounding madly. Tightening her hold, she pressed her cheek against his back and waited for him to resume their journey. She would find what was eating at his soul. She would find it and together they would make sure his pain would leave him forever. She tightened her hold as the bike slowly moved forward and she felt the fresh scent of the forest caressing her cheek, the other carefully pressed against his back. She closed her eyes, focusing her thoughts on his rapid beating heart and winced feeling his pain radiating from his weary body.

His lips tight, he focused his stare on the road. He knew, he hadn't been very nice of him to stop their conversation like that. But really he had no other choice. The truth would hurt her, and he didn't want to lie to her. _Forgive me, Stella._ He clenched his jaw as her arms tightened around him and he finally felt the painful bruises on his back. At least, he had avoided her to get those bruises on her delicate skin, he thought to reassure him. Even if he had acted like a mad man, the only thing that really mattered was her being okay. He stepped on the gear as they turned and were back on a concrete road. Soon, they would be there. And soon he would know if he had made the biggest of his life.

The shining sun graced them of its warm sun rays as soon as they left the cover of the forest and Mac took the Interstate.

She tightened her hold, knowing that even if he didn't want to talk, then, she could at least make him understand that she was there. Her palms pressed against his chest, she felt him tensed again. With a shy glance, she looked at the rear mirror; he wasn't blushing, nor smiling. She clenched her jaw, no, he was more wincing. With sadness, she remembered his dressing from last night, wrapped just under his scar. So, she slowly moved her palms to his waist to be sure she wouldn't hurt him. Her fingers then left the thick leather jacket and nestled around his jeans. This time, he slightly moved on his seat and glancing at the mirror, she noted with pride that Mac Taylor was a man like any others. His cheeks were turning crimson, and his gloom had disappeared from his lips replaced by a shy smile. She smiled. Finally she might have just found out the right spot to talk to him when he was clamming up. She grinned inwardly. Yep, no one could resist to Stella Bonasera, not even her partner.

Deep in his misery, Mac felt Stella's hands moving on his chest and he winced when she rubbed at his stitches. It burned him from the inside, but somehow it wasn't the worst pain he was feeling right now. He was feeling guilty for having been unable to talk to her while all she wanted to do was to help him because she was worried. But most of all, he didn't want her to be worried for him out of pity, no he wanted her to..._Wow_, his trails of thoughts stopped instantly as her hands went lower his chest and snaked around his waist. _Oh, God,_ his mind shot as his core suddenly went on fire. _Damn it, Mac! Get a hold on yourself!_ he scolded himself, his dark thoughts suddenly all wiped out of his mind as her palms nestled on the waist band of his jeans. Breathing slowly, he moved to turn on the road, and his sweater shifted. The cloth escaped her fingers, and she found her fingers grazing directly at his bare skin. He swallowed the hard knot formed in his throat as his body reacted immediately from the soft brush.

With all his effort, his mind focused on the road and only on the road, and for the next two hours, every time she was slightly moving, her fingers would softly graze at his bare stomach and he would gulp avidly for a breath of fresh air. The time they arrived at their destination, and he realized Stella had done a perfect job as his mind was now focused on her and his dark thoughts long gone. Of course, he knew the minute he would jump off the bike and Stella's warm fingers would leave him that they would be back to haunt him. But right now, he felt free and even if it was hard to get his mind into focus when she accidentally brushed his navel, he knew he didn't want her to stop.

The sun was high in the sky, as it was only the middle of the morning. With delight Stella felt Mac shivering as she once again slightly brushed his navel. She grinned inwardly. She could have said it was an accident. Well, his sweater revealing his skin was. But since then, she had carefully nestled her palms directly on his skin, decided to make him understand that she was there to support him and talk whatever happens. Then with excitement, Stella saw the city appeared ahead and she raised her head to read the blue, road board.

"Buf..." she spoke, but the name died on her lips as the board disappeared. What were they doing here? She wondered with a frown.

_**...TBC

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**A/N:** Okay, I know I said this fic was going to be only romance, and it is but couldn't resist to add some tiny peril/angst to serve the story and explain Mac's tormented attitude, so hope you liked it, and please feel free to give me your thoughts about it.

So I guess you all know where they are right now, right? Or do you need more tips, lol. Well anyway, next chapter Mac will finally talk to Stella, but what is he going to say? Can you bet on it?


	5. Broken

**A/N:** Well, again thanks for all who have taken the time to review and to all who put this fic or me in fav, alert or just read this fic.

This chapter will lurk into some dark corners for Mac, sic the title. As I did before, I had a song in mind when I wrote this piece, so if you go on the 'tub' and check with: _Mac Taylor_Broken _ you'll have a pretty good idea of what I meant with this chapter. It's a good SMacked-team vid and it explains a lot about Mac and how he feels inside. So I hope you'll like it. :) Furthermore, it's from a friend and she does wonderful Smacked vid so go check her profile with Cardiffgiant01.

And to SmackedFan, thanks a lot girl for allowing me to borrow your great creation.

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Some spoilers...from coming episodes

**Summary:** after a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

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_What are we doing here?_ The question popped in her head the minute she saw the blue board. _Buffalo. _Holding on to Mac, Stella managed to give a small glance to the rear mirror, and watched as Mac's frown had come back, though very faint this time. _He's serious, but why? _Lightly, she pressed her arms around his waist, and her fingers slipped on his bare skin again. With a mischievous smile she buried her face into his vest when she felt him tensed at her daring move. She smiled inwardly. She hoped he wouldn't hold on a grudge against her for what she was doing. If he asked then, she would say that her fingers had just slipped, and that was the perfect truth. Though, she was really enjoying herself, and somehow she was taking her revenge from him shelling back after that wild hug he had given her. Although even if unexpected, she had enjoyed it too. A small frown creased her forehead. He had really behaved as if he was scared. _But why? And from what?_ It was really frustrating. She could feel that the solution was close and yet she couldn't put her fingers on it. She sighed, but now she had her fingers on him. She grinned inwardly. _Yep,_ that she had.

He swallowed the lump formed in his throat. For the last two hours he had felt her fingers moving and slowly brushing his skin. And although the feeling was incredibly great, he couldn't stop but wonder if she had done it in purpose or if she was just trying to remain seated and was then clutching at him. After all, if his sweater hadn't moved they wouldn't be in this position, right? Stella wouldn't have done it? He frowned regretting immediately his mind driving him to this sad corner. In fact, he didn't want to know. He liked to feel her close to him, and every minute her fingers grazed his skin, although a torture to his burning core, he craved just to feel more of her skin on him. But sadly, he wasn't sure the feeling was mutual. So maybe he should ignore it when they would arrive, or at least postpone this kind of talk for tomorrow, when the weekend would be almost other and he wouldn't risk her to leave.

He sighed heavily. Yeah maybe he would do just that. Another road board appeared on his right, and he knew she had already seen it. Well, their destination wasn't a secret he wanted to keep from her forever anyway. And frankly, he was more preoccupied by her reaction when they would be there, than her knowing the name of the place. His hands squeezed the handle and he led the bike towards the exit. He had only come once with his dad in this city, and it was a long time ago. He sighed wondering again how Stella was going to react. He could just lose her today. He cringed at the thought, but reminded himself that he had to do it. He had to be honest with her. Whatever happened then, he would know if he would be crushed or not by her. That is, if only he could muster enough strength to tell her everything. His lips tight, his eyes caught in a reflex the truck skidding to the right and ready to crush them against the safety barrier.

_What the hell?_ His mind shot in dread. Instinctively, his foot slammed on the brakes and the bike dangerously skidded on the road.

"Hang on," he shouted to Stella, as the bike slanted dangerously to the right.

His heart racing in his chest, blood flowing madly behind his temples, he gave more juice to the bike to get more stability and avoid the dangerous fall. The wheels slowly got more grip on the concrete and the bike remained up. The burning gust of wind, produced by the truck just before them now, blew to his sweaty neck and lifted his sweater. He gulped in haste at the near death accident, just because the damned driver hadn't checked his rear mirror before taking the exit. _Bastard!_ His mind shot in anger. _Could have killed us, and for what? Seconds gained on a somewhat worthless trip. _His jaw clenched at the thought, his hands squeezed around the handle, and he breathed slowly trying to slow down his beating heart. Now wasn't the time to let out his steam. Stella was probably scared as well, considering how strongly her arms had tightened around him. And honestly, if she hadn't done that she could have just fallen, and then what? The following car would have..._God_. His heart rate accelerated as if it was even possible despite the mad beating hammering in his chest. _Stella._ His mind repeated in dread._ Stella._ No, he couldn't stop. He couldn't slow his heart rate. He winced in pain, as a hot burn exploded in his chest near his heart. This wasn't good.

Now, on a road between small buildings, he decided he had to stop. At least he had to be sure, her arms were still there, and her strong embrace wasn't fake, he wasn't back in one of his dreams. Pulling over near a small coffee shop, he stopped the engine. He wanted to jump out, but her arms remained clung around him. He took a deep breath, and slowly turned to her, her fingers slowly releasing her grip and giving hims some room to move. He could feel tension wrinkling her soft face. His lips tight, his sight wandered over her body to check that she was okay. Swallowing back his fear, he faced he,r still seated on the bike, and Stella's arms lingering over his waist.

"Stella," he called with hesitation, quickly taking off his helmet and shades. His damp hair spiked messily on his head as he stared at her. He was responsible for that. Again it was his fault. He should have stayed further from this truck. _Damn it!_ He bit his lower lip. If only he had seen it before it veered toward them. He quickly strapped his helmet on the bike. "You okay?" His hands gently patted her arms as his eyes searched her face for any signs of shock.

Taking a slow breath, her emerald eyes connected with Mac. She could see the pain had returned once again into them. And now, he was bearing a pout of guilt too. She closed her eyes a second to feel the world still around her. After the rapid breaks and turns from the bike, she needed to be still, just for a while. It had been a shock to see the truck almost driving on them without noticing them. But she had never felt so glad to be with Mac that at that precise moment. His expert moves had quickly avoided the threat and they had remained far behind the truck when the crush could have happened. Although, she guessed that by Mac's look, a lot more had happened in the few seconds when she had clung at him. But it was over now, and once again, Mac had saved the day, so what about his guilty look.

"I'm fine, Mac," she replied, her voice a bit weaker than she had intended to. Clearly, she had been a bit shaken. She frowned. Looking at Mac who didn't seem to believe her. Then, her arms finally left his waist and he climbed down the bike. His lips tight, he turned to her a remorseful sight, before he pointed at the coffee shop. Nodding, she took off her helmet, and let it rest near his, hanging on the bike handle.

"Let's stop a minute," his warm voice invited her.

She nodded and slipped her legs from the bike, but to her surprise, Mac's hands pressed gently on her hips to help her.

"Easy," he said, giving her a shy grin, and seeing her legs shaking a bit. He knew Stella was tough. But that damned truck had been very close and even for him, his energy was spiking from all his body parts, shouting to move or do something, before he crumbles on the ground, his energy spent in fear of losing her. So, yeah, he could expect her to have some after shock, although he knew she wouldn't admit it.

As her feet met the ground, it took her a second to realize she was on a flat surface and get her legs straight up. But it was enough time for Mac to feel her awkwardness and step closer, steadying her by pressing her trembling frame against him. In a reflex, her fingers wrapped around his forearms, and her eyes met his. Fear was still lingering behind those green, ocean pools, but something else too. She frowned not able to recognize it.

Gently, his hands lingered on her hips, and as her face pressed against his chest, he clenched his jaw._ She's real,_ his mind repeated with relief. And before he knew what he was doing, his face nestled in the crook of her shoulder, too happy to see that she was okay.

"Sorry. It's my fault," he muffled in torment as his arms wrapped around her. His left warm cheek leaned against her neck, he needed to feel her. He needed to be sure, he wasn't in a dream somehow.

_What?_ Her mind shot in worry. _No! _It wasn't his fault. Why was he thinking that? His warm breath tickled her neck and all the words she had in mind vanished instantly. _Oh God. _She swallowed the warm feeling invading her, and her arms instinctively wrapped around him too.

"Not your fault, Mac," she whispered, her lips brushing his ear. "You couldn't know." She felt him tensed as if he didn't believe her.

Of course it was his fault, how could she say otherwise. If he had been more careful and...but her next words cut his dark trail of thought.

"And don't you dare to think otherwise. Okay," she continued. "I had a better view than you. And that damned truck came out of nowhere." She sighed tightening her arms around him. "I'm glad you were paying attention, and you have quite the reflexes, really."

He swallowed the hard knot, feeling her warm comforting words, slowly sinking and soothing his aching soul.

She hoped he was believing her, and that again he wasn't going to shell back. But her own thoughts disappeared when he relaxed in her arms, his stiff muscles becoming loose and his breath even. Then, his hands slowly left her back, and she knew their hug was over. Mac was back in command, ready to face whatever was ahead. She smiled, so he had believed her, she noted with pride, her words had worked.

He took a step back, and his hands left her hips with regrets. "Ya want to take a coffee?" he asked as he looked at her, his lips tight, remorse still fueling his flushed face.

"Well, is there a place we should be?" she asked, her eyes twinkling in expectations. She had to admit that she was eager to see what he wanted to show her. Since he had talked about it, her mind had just turned and turned every possibility she could know about him. And now that they were at Buffalo, city she didn't know he had ever stepped a foot on, she was really wondering what it was all about. With delight, she saw his charming grin appeared on his face.

Shyly, his hand rubbed at his neck, and his eyes gleamed mischievously. "Eager to know, huh?" He teased, knowing that she was indeed. He could see the small sparkles blinking with curiosity in her emeralds. Yes, she wanted to know, but would he have the courage to tell her everything? Or was he going to back down? He bit his lower lip, trying to keep a poker face. Now wasn't the time to show her his doubts. No, he had promised he would do it.

"Okay, then, let's go back on the road." he glanced at his watch. "I guess we could arrive in five minutes."

Her eyes gleamed in content. _Five minutes?_ _Alright, Mac, show me what you got,_ her mind teased.

He took a deep breath, and sat back on the bike. His helmet sank on his head, he felt Stella's body gently slipping behind him, and his core instantly warmed from her close proximity. He bent to turn on the engine and when he straightened up, her arms softly wrapped around his waist, carefully avoiding his dressing. He was thankful she remembered it, but then, he froze instantly as the next second her fingers slipped back to his bare skin. _Oh God. Now isn't a mistake,_ his mind shot in a mix of torment and warm desire.

"Sorry," she softly answered to his unasked question. But as the bike moved forward, he noted that she hadn't removed her fingers. _Not even one,_ he realized with a small smile tugged at his lips. What could it mean? He frowned. But now, the proximity of death could have just scared her enough to slip again, but wanting to remain clutch to him she hadn't dared to move them because of the bike moving, his mind reasoned. _Got to be that. _What other reasons would she do that? _Or just to tease me from not answering this morning? But either way nothing as serious as I would like it to be._

Stella grinned inwardly as Mac had totally frozen when she had dared to venture back on his bare skin. Well, she couldn't deny that feeling his skin under her fingers was somehow reassuring her. Although she had said she was fine, her heart was still beating after that weird possible accident. And well, she was really tired of being careful with so many things and especially toward Mac. She had strong feelings for him. She knew it, and for a long time. And until now, the fear of breaking their friendship had hindered her to make any move forward, but when she closed her eyes she could see that truck coming at them, and really she was wondering if all these years hadn't been lost for nothing. If they had died crushed by that truck, then, he would have never known. She sighed knowing that her daring move would slowly fade when they would face each other and that they would be back at work. And as she was thinking of all of this, she knew one thing for certain, she didn't want to lose him. So when he stopped at a traffic light, she managed to get her fingers over his sweater and come back to a more best friend attitude. This way, she wanted to be sure, she hadn't compromised anything. After all, his own hug had been right after the incident, otherwise he wouldn't have done that, right? Then, she couldn't assume he had the same feelings that she did. As her fingers pressed over his sweater, she felt his chest relax, and realized sadly that she might not have been far from the truth.

His core burning and tickling from her soft touch brushing his skin, Mac was on fire. He took a slow breath, and hoped he would have regained a complete control of his body when they would stop. And like a bad wish coming true, her fingers left his bare skin at the first traffic light. Now he was sure, she hadn't acted on purpose. If she had some feelings other than friendly for him, then her fingers would have remained. His body slowly relaxed, more from the internal fire fading than by real happiness. He sighed, and remembered that they were here for something, so he should better do it soon, and be done with it.

A few minutes later, and after driving into the traffic, he pulled over in front of a hotel. He climbed down the bike, shortly followed by Stella. As he took off his helmet, he saw a slight frown appearing on her forehead while her sight followed the curves of the building and to the blue sky.

"Just to drop our stuff," he said, almost apologizing for it. He hadn't told her about the hotel, but he hoped she would agree with it, after all, she had agreed to camp, so a hotel couldn't be that bad, right?

"It's fine, Mac."

He smiled softly. "Good." Then, he grabbed both their bags and they headed inside in silence, none daring to talk about her adventurous fingers.

The black, marble hall shone as soon as they entered, and Stella smiled at the choice of her partner for this hotel. She couldn't help but wonder if he had just picked up this place to stop at, or if he had chosen it for other reasons. Surely, if he had chosen it, then he had a good taste. But then, the small talk with the clerk answered her silent questions.

"Hi, Sir. How are you doing?" asked the clerk, a tall brunette with thin, round glasses and a wide, commercial smile plastered on her face.

"I'm good, thanks. I'm Mac Taylor," he announced. Stella frowned, wondering why he was so direct.

The clerk quickly typed his name in her computer and smiled back at him. "You have the rooms 384 and 385," she replied, keeping her smile only for Mac. Somehow, it made Stella cringed a little as Mac gave her back a smile, though she was sure he hadn't given her his charming smile. Nope, not this time, and deep inside she hoped it was because this one he was keeping it just for her, but what were the odds she was right, huh? The clerk put two key cards on the desk and gave him a form to sign and she saw him glancing back at her.

Did he have reserved? She wondered. So he had planned that hotel trip as well. Two rooms. She cringed at the thought. She had never thought that she would regret not to go camping again, instead of that luxury hotel. _Too late, Stell. It's over now,_ her mind whispered in misery. But then, she couldn't expect to be in the same room with him. Not like that._ It would have been too awkward, right?_ She sighed as she followed him to the lift and hopped inside without a word.

"I'm really sorry for, well, for that truck," his voice broke their silence as the door closed on them. His face reflected his pain and guilt for having put their lives uselessly in danger.

She smiled gently, knowing he was still feeling responsible for it. "Ah, C'mon, Mac. Told ya, it's not your fault, alright." She gave him a warm smile and locked her eyes with his green, ocean pools, her hand patting his arm.

He gave her a small pout and she wondered for how long he would still feel guilty. Surely too long, she sighed inwardly. The doors opened with a small tinkling**, **but he didn't move. He looked at her, a shy grin back on his face.

"Ladies first," he teased, his eyes sparkling with the amused light she liked as his hand pointed at the corridor.

She chuckled lightly and stepped out. With some delight, his shoulder brushed hers as he joined her and pointed to her right.

She quickly turned her sight toward the direction, hoping he wouldn't see her cheeks turning red. Although she could say now that she had been very close to him in many ways this weekend, she couldn't suppress this inward grin of feeling his frame just brushing with hers. It tickled her skin and was sending sparkles of electricity every where along her spine. _Gee, if only,_ her mind moaned sadly. Her brows rose in misery as she took a deep breath and stepped to the right. But soon, she felt him beside her, so close that again she could feel the heat radiating from his body.

Both key cards in hand, Mac gave her one as she stopped in front of the first room. With a gentleman smile, he left her bag to her feet and continued to the next door. Silently, he slipped the card in the door and glanced at Stella.

"You want to freshen up and then we go out for lunch, or you want to rest for a while?" He asked, his eyes unsure of what her answer would be. Last time he had proposed her to hit the road, she had quickly back down, so now, with that truck almost crushing them, he wasn't sure if she wanted to keep going. Though he wouldn't hold a grudge for that. That thing had scared him too, both could have lost their lives today, and it would have been his fault. He could have killed her. His lips tight, he waited her answer anxiously.

Stella looked at Mac as he glanced toward her, his propositions sounded good. But she wasn't tired, she was indeed really excited by the near proximity of what he wanted to show her. Sadly, she noticed a new frown had appeared on his face. _Worried again._ She sighed inwardly. She really had to find a way to get his head out these dark clouds.

"I'm not tired, we can go as soon as you're ready," she teased him, almost provoking him with a large, inviting smile.

Mac instantly recognized Stella's playful mood. Was she implying that he needed time to freshen up. _No way._ He grinned. "Five minutes?" he asked. Even if he didn't need that time, she might, and he didn't want to rush her into anything.

She grinned back. "Sure, mister," she teased again, as she entered her room.

His brows quirked amused as he wondered what she was really up too. When Stella was smiling like that, he could always bet she was planning something. _Got to keep an eye on my back,_ he smirked as he stepped inside his room. Quickly, he tossed his bag and jacket on the bed, and went to the bathroom.

With a deep sigh, he sprinkled some cold water on his face and looked at his trembling hands. His lips let escaped a heavy sigh. He knew the shaking wasn't coming from the truck incident, though it added to, but more to his nervousness since the beginning and that weird vision he had this morning with the axe. The truck, he had managed to deal with it, and he considered although he was guilty of putting her life in jeopardy, that this was over. But the axe. He pouted with sadness. That thing was part of his regular nightmares, and seemed to cling to his mind like a parasite. He just couldn't erase it from his memory. If she had not reacted to his call in that deadly house, if she had waited only one second, she would be dead by now, and that was something he wasn't able to cope with. His face glistening from the water, his hands pressed on the edge of the sink to support his tired body. Drops of water slowly dripped from his brows and over his nose as he looked at his pale reflection. He had no answer to his problem. Every time he closed his eyes, he was seeing her being killed, either by that damned axe or by that bastard stabbing her. Only last night had been different. He shook his head. First night, he had in peace for a very long time.

Slanting further, his hands squeezed at the white ceramic and his knuckles went white. What did it mean? Why he had no nightmare last night? Because she was there? He frowned. It didn't make any sense. He could see her every day, so why only last night. _Maybe because she was in your arms buddy,_ his mind whispered. _Maybe._ All right, he knew he had strong feelings for her, but was it that simple? His lips tight, his head sagged to his chin, as he wallowed in misery. But then, a soft knock at his door reminded him that Stella was probably waiting for him. Shaving away his dark thoughts, he quickly dried his face with a towel, and plastering his best charming smile, he opened the door.

He frowned as the corridor was empty before him. _What the...?_ But then, the knock was repeated and he realized it was from the inner door separating their rooms. He smiled. That had to be Stella. She probably wanted to try if their private door worked. Turning around, he went to the door opposite to his bed and opened it with a grin. His left hand held the door as he gazed at her. Before him, Stella had changed into a pair of light, blue jeans; her sneakers replaced by her long boots, and her pink top still gently cutting her curves.

"Already checking all exits," he teased as she looked at him with a fake, guilty pout.

"Well, I'm a detective, I had to investigate every possible issue," she teased back, happy of her pun.

He offered her a warm smile. "Well, Detective, this is the entrance to my room, not an exit," he quipped with a smug face, his eyes sparkling, and his right hand resting on his hip. Of course he had understood her underlining.

She raised her brows. "Can always become handy," she dropped before she even realized what she had said. _Oh God,_ maybe she should have thought before talking. She cringed lightly at Mac stunned expression.

Mac stared at her, his eyes glued to her cheeks turned crimson. What does she mean by that? Was she playing with him right now? Did she have just started foreplay? But before his mind could come up with a satisfied answer, she backed down in her room. He frowned. Okay maybe the things weren't as dark as he had thought first. Taking his jacket, he followed her in her room without even asking if he was allowed to. And when he realized where his steps had led him, he grinned inwardly like a kid, noting that she hadn't asked him to get out of there. So yeah, maybe all this was a good sign, he hoped.

"Don't forget to take your passport, huh?" he said, as he headed to the door of the corridor.

She showed him the small thing in her hand and followed him out of the room. "Nope, I brought it as ordered by my boss," she grinned. But what for anyway? "Do you plan to escape to another country," she teased, hoping he had no escape in mind. She wasn't ready to see him leave her for another place far from her.

"You'll see, _Detective_," he quipped as they headed to the lift. He could swear he was feeling really better. Their small, teasing talk had just relieved his heart of all the frustration, anger and fear he had lingered into this morning. Waiting for the lift, he glanced at Stella, and saw she was mirroring his smile. _Every thing's gonna be ok, Mac. She won't flee, tonight, and maybe she'll forgive you for what you are. _His mind comforted him. _Maybe_. _Or she can just take off and I won't see her again. Can't happen she has to resign first and then to...Oh C'mon, stop brooding already. She's smiling, you're feeling well, so what could possibly go wrong?_ He sighed. _Her leaving._ He flinched inwardly as the doors opened and they stepped inside. _Just focus on the task ahead, Mac. You can do it, alright. You can do it. _He took a deep breath and focus on his boots. Even in the marines things hadn't been so difficult. Why talking to her was suddenly becoming an impossible task? He frowned, his lips tight, his heart knowing perfectly why.

Stella watched as anxiety seemed to slowly rise inside Mac. His relaxed body in their room had slowly tensed at the approach of the lift, and now, he was lightly bouncing on his feet, waiting for the door to open. She had to admit, she had never seen him so nervous. The more troubling was that they weren't at work, and it wasn't related to Reed, Claire, or his last girlfriends. She frowned. _Or maybe it is,_ her mind whispered softly in dread. Her lips tight, she too started to tense. If it was related to Claire or Reed, she could deal with it, but with his last girlfriends, she wasn't sure she would. Maybe he wanted to talk to her about them, and how he could get back with Aubrey since Peyton had once again dropped him. She took a deep breath. No, really she wasn't ready to help him to get back into the arms of another woman. Not that she was jealous, or maybe she was after all. She sighed. Of course she was. She knew it wasn't nice of her to think like that, and well, of course if he wanted advice about that, she would give him some. It would hurt her pretty bad, but then, he was her best friend, and the important thing that mattered to her, was him being okay.

On the other hand, Aubrey was gone for more than two months now, and she hadn't seen her near Mac lately. So maybe it wasn't about her, maybe someone else? Or just something totally different. But if it was different, why was he so nervous?

The doors opened and they stepped outside. The warm breeze of July welcomed them as they exited the cool hall. Mac sighed as he sat on his bike. The heat outside was awful, but he couldn't take off his jacket without Stella noticing his back again. If only he had thought about changing his sweater. _Damn it!_ He had told her five minutes and he had been the one late and not that much refreshed. He sighed inwardly as he slid his shades on his nose and plastered a gentle smile as she stepped near him.

"So," she started, her eyes sparkling in expectations. "Still keeping it secret as we're here?" She had to try, she was so exited to see what he had to show her and if possible get his head out of the dark clouds that she had to ask and maybe get the truth.

A mischievous grin grazed his lips as he gazed at her. She couldn't see his eyes hidden by the dark glasses, but she could swear he was enjoying to tease her like that.

"Mac?" she pushed, hoping to get an answer.

"C'mon, Grasshopper," he spurred. "You'll see soon enough." And with that, he sank his helmet on his head and waited for her to join him.

With a gentle smile she playfully slapped his arm before sliding behind him. Well, if he was acting like that and didn't want to tell her then, she decided she would make him know that next time he'd better tell her. And as he started the engine, she did all her possible to _accidentally_ slid her hands right under his sweater. She smiled inwardly as she felt his stomach quickly retracted and tensed under her touch. _Here we go, Mac. Like that I still know I have some powers over you._ She grinned but managed to hide her face as she muffled a small _sorry_, just for him to hear enough before they were on the road. Time to play had started.

Mac swallowed the warmth that had suddenly invaded his core as Stella's soft fingers brushed his bare skin. He swore that if she was keeping doing that he was going to lose it, and then..._and then what?_ shot his mind in frustration. _You aren't going to tell her, are you?_ His heart suddenly raced in his chest at the perspective. _You, losing it before Stella?_ He sighed inwardly. _Better be careful, Mac or you are going to lose her quicker than what you thought._ His lips tight, he focused on the road and to slow down his heart rate. No, he had to remain calm or he wouldn't be able to talk to her. _Keep your head cool, Mac, keep it cool. _But it was almost impossible for him as her fingers slipped further down and to his waist band. _Oh God,_ s_he can't do that, _he swallowed hardly, unable to defend as the bike kept going and the wind gently lifted his sweater, he slowly resigned himself to being powerless in her hands. He bit his lower lip, admitting that in fact, he wasn't bothered by the idea of surrendering to her. No, in fact, it was the first time since Claire, he realized he wasn't afraid of letting go with Stella. But first, he had to tell her. then, she would decide of both their fate.

After, they had exited Buffalo and passed the lake Erie, they slowly stopped at the Canadian border. Stella gave him her passport and wondered why on earth, they were going to Canada. She shook her head as the officer gave him her papers back and sliding it in her jeans pocket, her hand quickly went back to Mac's waist. Playfully, she felt his now sweaty skin from the warm weather retracted again, and his cheeks turned crimson in the rear mirror. She had to admit, she was really enjoying that trip. But to her regret, Mac pulled over five minutes later in a parking lot. Her hands quickly retreated as he gracefully slid of the bike and turned to her. His shades on, it was difficult to see his eyes.

She stared at him as he watched her, his lips tight with hesitation. Clearly, he wanted to say something. And for a long minute, Stella cringed inwardly, waiting for him to tell her off about her inappropriate behavior. She could always protest she had done it by games, but he wasn't stupid. She had done it too many times for him to realize that she was doing it in purpose now. But instead of an angry lesson, or more a sad pout meaning she had crossed the line and their friendship was dangerously slopping toward hell, he remained without a word. Biting his lower lip from time to time then removing his helmet and still staring at her as he played with the sling. Finally, after some, long, silent minutes, a deep frown appeared on his forehead, and she thought it was over. But again, he hung his helmet on the handle and turned toward the people walking along the railing, letting out a long, painful sigh.

His back to her, he spoke with a soft voice. "Ready?"

Surprised, Stella didn't notice his change of posture at first, but when he turned to her and took her hand when she jumped off the bike, she could see his face was shut and sad. She cursed his shades at the time, wanting more than ever to connect with his eyes and apologize for what she had done, because he had to be sad because of what she had done, right? But when she freed herself from the bike, he gave her a warm smile and her fears immediately vanished.

Mac took a deep breath, noticing the confused look Stella was giving him, quickly filled by remorse. If she wanted to apologize for what had happened on the bike, it wasn't necessary. Stella was Stella. In his book, she should never have to feel that way with him. So when her lips parted and her words came out full of remorse, he was ready for it.

Her brows rose in an apology. "I...I sorry, Mac. I kinda slipped and well, I didn't want to tease you or..."

"Sure you did," he replied with a light smirk, happy to see her mouth froze open. It was rare that he had the occasion to stop her in her speech. He grinned. After all, he knew she had enjoyed teasing him.

She frowned, surprised he was so straight forward with this subject, but seeing his light smirk she deduced he didn't seem angry at all. "Well, I'm sorry I..."

His fingers squeezed gently her hand as he brought it to his side, obliging her to get closer to him. He felt his heart accelerated at her near proximity and watched with anxiety to see if she was uncomfortable and wanted to step back from him. But her eyes seemed to sparkle with the same intensity he had seen at the river and so he kept her hand and leaned closer, his lips inches of her ear. "You should know, that you, more than anyone in the world, would have never to apologize to me," he whispered to her ear.

Frozen by their sudden closeness, his warm breath tickled her ear and she couldn't suppress a growing smile at his words. _You more than anyone in the world._ She curled her lips upward as he stepped back, the wind keeping his soft scent close to her. What the hell had just happened? Her mind shot in hopes. But before she could start to process it, he was already walking away, leading her by the hand.

"Come with me," he whispered.

Smittened by his sudden charming behavior, she followed him without a word, lingering in the warm touch of his hand around hers. And without realizing it, she found herself standing in front of the most amazing thing she had ever seen. The pressure around her was intense and the voices of the people walking by muffled by the rumbling sound. She furtively took a glance at Mac as he leaned on the railing, and she did the same, their shoulders gently brushing.

Her heart beating in her throat, her eyes slowly took account of the magnificent scenery before her. In front of her, the most majestic falls stood proudly, daring humans to try to control them. The incessant flow of the gushing waters falling down and crashing down on the rocks in giant clouds of water were mesmerizing; and soon, her eyes were hypnotized by the spellbinding Niagara Falls. She had heard about it, but had never really had the time to see it with her own eyes. It was magic, like the forest they had been, but in a different way. She could feel here the power of the nature, of these million of gallons falling down and taking anything with them. These waters could crush in a second any human being that would dare to venture in their waters, and at the same time their dignity earned her greatest respect.

Mac glanced at Stella, anxiously observing her reactions and wondering what she was thinking of the Falls. The first time he had come here was a long time ago, but today he wasn't here for the beauty of the Falls. No, today he was here to set things right. He cursed inwardly, hoping Stella would forgive him. He swallowed with more anxiety the hard lump he could feel nestling in his throat. He just hoped he would have the courage to tell her everything. Slowly, his head sagged in pain before him as the dread wrapped its wings around him, and he leaned forward on the railing. The cold moisture of the waters gushing beneath him sprinkled his face, and for a minute it cooled his burning body. But he knew it was for a short moment, and soon, a slow pulsing headache throbbed beneath his temples. His lips tight, he closed his eyes behind his shades. At least, she couldn't see his pain, right now, he wrongly assumed as he raised his head, trying to pull a brave face on. But then, her warm hand gently rested over his back, and her fingers softly stroked him. He cursed his damned jacket that hindered him to feel her fingers on him maybe for the last time, his mind screamed in fear. Maybe.

"Mac?" she whispered, noticing the strained posture he had taken. Mesmerized by the Falls she hadn't noticed right away the struggle he had seemed to fall again into. "You okay?"

He swallowed as he clenched his jaw. Again, he hadn't been that careful, and he had let her see more that he should have, but it was too late now. He sighed and glanced at her. "I will be," he said. _Maybe one day,_ his mind continued.

His small admission, stopped her dead in her thoughts. It was the first time he wasn't giving his usual, _I'm fine_ answer. It couldn't be good. Anxiety built up inside her as she stared at him, his eyes locked away from her by his dark shades.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?" She tried.

He turned to face her and she saw him tensed even more. Slowly, he took off his shades and let his eyes connect with hers. Her stomach tightened at the gleaming shadow of pain and sorrow filling his green, ocean pools.

"Yes that's what I wanted to show you," his voice broke after a minute.

She smiled warmly. "It's amazing, Mac. Thanks, I had never seen the Falls before," she said, with a huge smile gracing her face. She hoped somehow he would see she was really happy about it, and it would help him to get back to his earlier happiest mood. But unfortunately, he remained tensed, his lips tight in a guilty pout.

"I'm sorry, I'm selfish," he blurted out, his sight slowly focusing on something behind her.

She stared at him, stunned, and saw that the shadow had fully returned in his eyes. "What?" she shook her head. "Mac you're not selfish. I... I don't understand."

He gave her a small pout, meaning he didn't believe her. "I wanted you to see this," he continued as his gaze left her eyes and looked at the gushing waters. "I wanted you to see the reality."

"Reality? What are you talking about, Mac?" Now she was confused, his words didn't make senses.

He leaned back against the railing. "You know since 9/11, I've felt pretty much like this giant hole with these mad waters rushing and falling inside." He sighed and glanced at her with uncertainty before he stared back at the rapid flow, unable to keep his eyes connected with hers. "When the towers crumbled, I..." He took a slow breath, feeling the pain soaring through his heart as the images printed before him. "That hole formed inside of me, and I could do nothing about that." He felt her hand gently stroking his back, encouraging him to talk. He just prayed it wasn't for the last time.

"I've fallen Stella, I've fallen hard, and when it happened you were there for me." He paused, trying to find the right words. "Since then, I fought hard to get out of this dark hole. It took me a long time, and I must admit at first I never thought I would be able to get out of it, but I realize now that it's time for me to change."

"Change?" her heart squeezed in her chest. What did he mean by that? What kind of change?

"It's like I have been surrounded by those dark clouds for so long that I can't see the sun anymore." He shrugged hoplessly. "But sometimes, I do, and I know now that I have to act." He shook his head. "And now that I can see it again, see this sun, and feel its warmth on my cheeks I want to feel it everyday of my life."

His lips tight, his weary eyes looked at her with an intensity and sorrow she had only seen when Claire had died.

"It's crazy right?" he finally mouthed with a weary sigh.

"No, it's not Mac." It wasn't crazy to want to live again. She had hoped that same thing for him for years now. But something in his eyes made her cringed inwardly, as if something else was still clinging at his heart. But what? And then, his next words, almost killed her.

"I need to start a new life, Stella. I don't know it's something I thought about but I don't know how it'll turn." He sighed heavily. "I don't even know if I can, I just know it's time for me to start over."

_Start over, _the words rang in her head, echoing madly like a painful scream. "What do you mean, start over?" What did he mean by that? _Is he going to leave New York and the Lab?_ A feeling of dread slowly soared inside her, and her heart squeezed in pain of losing him.

"Everything Stella, everything. It's been eating at me for too long, and now I'm like that big hole, filled with water and..." He hesitated as his eyes looked down, biting his lower lip.

"And what?"

"Sorry." He sighed and shook his head. "God, I'm so tired. I just can't fight it anymore," he admitted, with a guilty look.

"What are you talking about, Mac?"

He let out a deep exhausted sight, and as he glanced toward her again, she could see he was struggling with himself. "I'm sorry, I'm not strong enough anymore."

"Mac, I don't understand?" The fear kept crawling up, sneaking inside every part of her being, sickly gnawing at her soul. Why was he talking like that? Strong enough for what?

He shook his head and his hand rubbed his face. Her heart wrenched in pain at his weary move confessing he was finally powerless about the thing he was fighting inside. Suddenly, it was like he had aged before her. She could feel him, crumbling mentally before her, his shell gone, his wounds unprotected against the acid wind of his life. She was scared, scared like hell. What was happening to the man that was a rock for her, for the team, for the whole city of New York? Who or what had wounded him so much for him to accept defeat? She felt her eyes burning from the hot tears threatening to well down. Not now, her mind screamed, not before him, not when he needs me. But then his next words achieved to convince her that he wasn't alright. He couldn't be.

"I'm broken, Stella." His lips tight in guilt, his shy glance peered into her emeralds, looking for any kind of support. But inside her deep emeralds, he could see fear and sorrow, even pain. Maybe he should stop now, he should shut up, but he continued. "And there's nothing I can do about that. Inside I'm the same tumbling wreck you picked up the pieces nine years ago. And I realize I can't hide it." His hand squeezed at the silver railing, and his knuckles went white under the pressure. He had seen the disappointment gleaming in her eyes. He sighed inwardly, so now his destiny was made, his mind shot in pain. He had shown her what he was really inside, and the truth obviously was too hard to swallow for her. She was probably thinking that he was less than a man, and she would be right. "I know, you think I've fallen very low to tell you that, and maybe you're right. But I owe you the truth about me. I thought that as my friend I needed to show it to you," he sighed. "I...I..." He swallowed back the word in his throat as he noticed her eyes watering and a small tear welling down her beautiful cheek. As he saw her pain, he mentally broke for the second time in his life. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you that."

Softly, his hand caressed her cheek, drying the lonely tear. His warmth invaded her face, and she looked up to gaze at his sight full of remorse and guilt. Her throat was tight but she had to say it.

"S'kay." She nodded slowly. "You plan to leave when?" she asked, her voice wobbling through the pain nestled in her throat and soul.

He frowned and pulled her into his arms, understanding now her tears. It wasn't his confession that had hurt her. No, she thought he was going to leave. He cringed at her wrong assumption. It wasn't what he had meant. He just wanted her to know who he was really inside. He wanted her to be able to decide knowing all the facts. He tightened his hold around her, hoping she would forgive his awkward move that had led her to think this way.

"I don't plan on leaving, Stella," he whispered as he gently stroked her back. "I'm sorry, if I let you think otherwise." He sighed loudly. "I didn't want to hurt you, Stell, I'm sorry."

Snuggling her face in his warm shoulder, her body relaxed at his comforting words. _He's not leaving, _her mind repeated in joy. _He's not leaving._

"So I got to keep my best friend?" she asked, trying to muster a small chuckle. She frowned as he tensed involuntarily. _Why?_

His eyes closed in torment. _Best friend,_ his mind echoed in pain. "Yeah, you got to keep your best friend." He faked a small chuckle, but inside it hurt. No, not hurt, it burned him like a fire straight from hell. He couldn't tell her more now. His courage was gone. He had made her cry and she had finally given him the last blow. _Friend,_ the word replayed in his mind with a painful cry of agony. _Why?_ he asked in torment, his mind reasoning him to yield to his lonely fate. He sighed heavily, and tightened his hold on her. The pain inside his heart was excruciating. He hadn't lost her, but her way to raise their friendship barrier meant the death of his soul. He swallowed hardly, but he couldn't get his throat to work. The knot was still there. Careful not to hurt her, his arms tightened even more. He needed to feel her pressed against him. He knew now that it wouldn't have the chance to have her in his arms like that before a long time. No, New York was their friendly space surrounded by work and the team. Meaning the small liberties they had shared this weekend were over. His lips tight, he swallowed the hard truth, and lingered in the warmth of her body, her delicate perfume slowly ascending to his senses. _At least, you haven't lost her,_ his mind repeated to soothe his mental torment. _At least, you keep on seeing her at work._

She sighed, feeling Mac tensed even more though his arms pressed her against him. She couldn't say she didn't like it, but the way he tensed revealed her that there was still something going on. And she realized that he had just opened up his shell to her, and the only answer she had given him was tears. How could he not tense then? He was probably scared of her thinking less of him, so his tensed body. She pouted in his arms. She could understand now his gravity to arrive here and open up to her._ I'm broken, Stell. _His painful confession echoed in her mind like a cold blade shattering her heart. Mac Taylor, the toughest man on earth, had revealed his raw wounds to her and her only answer had been tears. Her eyes threatened to well down more tears at the thought that she had let him down. What could she do to reassure him now? But before she had the time to act and fix what she had done, he was taking a small hesitating step back from her. A warm breeze passed between their heated bodies and she felt suddenly very cold. She looked up to see his shades back on his nose, and a fake smile painted on his face. _God, what have I done,_ she realized painfully, as his shell was visibly back in place, but now she could see that even he, had a hard time to muster a fake smile.

"Let's get something to eat," he whispered as his right hand patted her shoulder to lead her to the bike.

Her mouth half opened, she nodded and followed him bitterly. Now, she had to find the right word to heal what had been wounded by her own fears, she realized with worries.

Mac gently guided her toward the bike, and without a word put back his helmet. Few seconds later, her arms snaked around him, and he turned on the engine. He was drained and felt suddenly very old, but he knew he had to keep going. He tried to focus his mind on the slow vibration of the bike under him, and as her head leaned against his back, he let out an exhausted sigh. Soon, the bike joined the traffic. The simple fact to talk to her and tell her the truth had taken the rest of his strength away, and now that he knew what would be his fate: alone and far from her, he had to admit, he wasn't looking forward to being back to New York. In fact, his mind was trying to give him millions of excuses to keep them stuck here, hoping for a divine intervention that would make her forget what he had dmitted to her, and the pain he had put her through. He shook his head in denial as they approached the border, knowing it wasn't possible; he couldn't turn back in time. This whole idea of talking to her and revealing himself to her had been a very bad idea. And he had to be glad that she hadn't rejected him at all.

As they drove back in the US, he glanced at the rear mirror and her sad face reminded him that he had to find a way to cheer her up. She had done so much for him already, that at least he could do that to her now. In fact, it was the only thing he could do without interacting in her personal life, and her rejecting him definitely. Seeing a small restaurant, he pulled over, and with his last remaining energy tried to pull a brave face for her. Time was to joy, he repeated to himself, not to grieve. So he took a deep breath, and with his commitment taken, he swore to himself that she wouldn't have to drop a tear because of him, never.

She swallowed wondering what she could do to make it right to Mac. In fact, him opening up this way to her, was the best demonstration of blind jump and trust someone could ever give. She sighed, and she had ignored it, her thoughts focused on her own pain and fear of losing him. She wanted him to be happy, and him revealing his dark inner struggle was a huge step forward from a man so private. But worried of losing him, she hadn't seen it right away, and now she was afraid he would clam up forever. As the bike stopped and Mac slowly jumped off the bike, her eyes stared at his back, her heart beating and racing with the pain she was sure she would find on his face.

His lips tight, he took off his helmet, his back still to her. He focused his mind on the day before when they had played together in the river. Her beautiful smile appeared in his mind and his lips gently curled upward. He wanted to see that smile again, and for that he knew he had to change his late behavior. Stella was living with her heart bore right before her, without any shield to protect it. So anything that affected her surroundings, says like her friends or him now, was instantly stabbing her heart painfully. It meant that if he wanted her to be happy, he had to be real good at playing his _I'm fine_ game or she would see right through him. He took a deep breath and focused on her amazing, mischievous smile, and soon, his mind was entwined in her smiling face, his eyes instantly searching for the sparkle in her eyes. His lips curled upward, and he turned toward her, knowing that from now on, he would have to be strong to face her everyday, but far from her, as she would be out of his reach. And when he turned toward her, his face was affecting a big, bright smile.

Her lips tight, she watched in dread as Mac turned toward her and she expected to see the dark shadow lingering in his eyes. But then, her racing heart suddenly slowed down as he gave her his best charming smile. Stunned, she tripped down on the bike as she was climbing off, and thanks to Mac's quick reflexes, she found herself in his warm embrace within the second.

A wide grin plastered on his face. "Wow, Stell, take it easy. Don't want to call the ME for you?" His warm voice quipped.

She blinked wondering where her sad, brooding Mac Taylor had gone. She had hurt him and he was smiling and joking. _Why?_ What had happened to him? But as her mind pondered all these questions, his strong arm wrapped around her shoulder to help her stand.

"Guess, you need some coach to drive you to the booth," he grinned, as they stepped towards the restaurant.

"I...I just tripped over, Mac," she replied a bit confused about his joke and his odd behavior. He shouldn't be that happy, she had hurt him. He should be sad and fighting his inner demons.

He took his shades off. "Yeah, sure." He smiled and as she stood firmly on her legs, he let go her frame and glanced with a small smirk. "Don't worry, I won't tell anybody," he teased, on a confidence tone.

Seeing his eyes sparkling with his grin, she couldn't suppress a small smile of her own. Maybe he was okay then.

Quickly, they both sat in a booth in a corner of the dinner, and a small waitress with dark bags under her eyes came to take their orders. As they settled in, and started with their drinks, Stella noticed Mac had kept his jacket on, though the place was quite hot in there. _Still hurts._ She bit her lower lip.

Mac crossed her eyes staring at him, and knew she was still worried. He sighed inwardly. He had to keep her distracted or she would finally notice something was wrong with him. She would ask him more questions and frankly he wasn't ready for any of them. _C'mon, Mac. We can still have a good time, and finish with a wonderful weekend._ He took a slow breath, trying not to be noticed by her inquiring eyes.

"So, how did you find the Falls?" he asked as the waitress brought their orders and he hastily picked in his food.

She narrowed her eyes. He had broken his shell before her almost an hour ago, and now he was smiling and eating? No way, there was something off with him. She swallowed, and she was probably the cause, she thought biting her lower lip. "You okay, Mac? I mean..." she couldn't finish as he gently cut her off.

"Not eating, Stell? Or you want your special, apple diet?" He grinned, his brows rose playfully, hoping she would drop the subject. "I can call the waitress. I'm sure they can find an apple somewhere." He teased, putting all his energy in his smile and conveying as much joy he could on his face, her smiling face still printed before him to encourage him to keep going.

"Mac, I'm..." She frowned, but seeing all the expectations in his gleaming, playful, green eyes and his wide grin, she couldn't ask him, at least not now. _Fine._ She looked down at her own meal. She preferred him smiling and happy anyway, so why bothered to stab deeper the blade she had stupidly thrust into his heart. She swallowed slowly, and when she looked up, her emeralds connected with his green, ocean eyes.

The conversation around them faded for a minute as they stared at each other; each smiling to the other, though both their minds were clearly worrying for the other. Mac's grin widened and as a reaction, Stella's eyes sparkled teasingly. Both tried hard to ignore the faint shadow they picked in the other sight. And after a while, the sounds slowly came back to their ears and they were back in the dinner, surrounded by talks, music and the broiling smoke of bacon. As they continued to smile at each other, lingering in the comforting presence of their eyes connected, they let the time passed and after a while, the waitress bringing their bill pulled them from their reverie.

"Sorry," she said, as she quickly retreated realizing she had disturbed a moment of peace between her customers.

Back into the reality, Mac frowned as he noticed Stella's untouched meal. She hadn't eaten a bit, her salad still spiking from her plate. He chuckled lightly, as he noted he too hadn't bit into his sandwich.

"You should eat, Stell. I don't want you to pick up on your boss' bad habits," he teased, knowing with this kind of bait she was going to react quickly. And as planned her reply came quickly.

She gave him an amused glance, and her fork picked into her salad. "Yeah, well, I follow his lead," she replied pointing at his own plate.

"Touché." He observed her while she slowly chewed with a big grin. He took a bit of his own plate, and smiled warmly.

As they finished their meal, Mac paid the bill and he gave a small grin to Stella.

"What?" she asked, wondering what could have changed him so fast.

"Ah, nothing," he mouthed as they exited and headed to the bike.

"Nothing, huh? There's always something going on with you, Mac. So what is it?"

His grin widened, and she knew she had been right. "Well, I was thinking about our next stop."

"Next stop? I thought we were done for today." A small crease appear on her face. She wasn't sure she wanted him to get hurt even more after this morning. Who knew what would happen if she was making the same mistake again. Would he really stay in New York then?

"We are, but there's something that can interest you," he said. _And maybe get your mind off what I stupidly told you, _his mind whispered in torment.

"Then, why are we still here?" she teased, and seeing Mac smile spread to his ears, she knew it was the right answer. _As long as he's happy,_ she reminded herself._ Then, I'll be okay. _Though inside her heart was still squeezed in pain from his earlier confession, and her lack of comfort for him when he had needed her the most. But she wasn't ready to give up on her amending herself and the time she would be able to verify that he was really okay. With a faint smile, she sat behind him and held on to him. Her heart not ready to put him in misery after all she had already done, she gently snaked her arms around his chest, avoiding his dressing, and careful not to slip this time by real accident.

Ten minutes later, the sun high in the sky, leaving no space for any shadows, they were exiting Buffalo in the burning heat of July. Drenched in sweat with his jacket on, Mac took a small road going west. After a series of up and down, he finally pulled over in front of the giant lake. Before them the wide, blue Lake Erie, lazily spread his shining surface over the horizon. Mac jumped off the bike and hung his helmet to the bike. With a shy smile tugged at his lips he gave his hand to Stella who gladly accepted it and she slid from the bike with grace. He smiled at her careful move, probably tring to make him know that the tough Bonasera was back. He smiled inwardly at that idea, he had never doubted her, never.

He waited that she had gotten rid of her helmet, before he nervously caught her hand again, and as she didn't deny the touch, he led them down the small sandy beach. Their boots shuffled in the golden sand, and the sun quickly heated their bodies. Once again Mac took a deep breath, the surrounding heat burning his core while he had kept his jacket on to avoid Stella's worried glances and his anxiety rising within the minute. But this time it wasn't about what he was going to say. No that had been done, and he was regretting it enough to never try that again. No, it was more because of her close proximity, her smile widening as if it was only for him and the fact that they would be alone for more than a minute.

As he stopped near the bank, he crumbled to the sand, pulling down Stella with him. Surprised by the pull, she crashed over him with a small chuckled, her eyes gleaming at his playfulness.

"Hey, you mind if I stay on my feet for today," she quipped as she was lying across him, her hands flat on his chest.

He winced as her hand rubbed at his dressing underneath his sweater, but he quickly changed it into a smile before she had the time to notice, at least he hoped she hadn't.

Half sprawled over Mac, Stella had her arms pressed on his chest and she lay her chin over her crossed hands. Her face beaming from her unexpected position over his body, she gazed at his green, ocean eyes. She wondered how he was able to go from a defeated posture few hours ago, to his charming smile he was giving her right now. He really had unexpected resources sleeping inside him, she realized with admiration. Although he had been really broken near the fall, now he was still able to gather enough energy to make her feel happy and great. With an inner sigh, she wondered if he had any idea of the extent of his real strength and the effect his smiles had on her. Whatever had been his motive to change his attitude he was good at sucked it up and focused on something else. She bit her lower lip as their eyes connected and they remained linked into each other for a minute.

Then, she finally broke their silence. "I'm sorry ab..." she started, but he cut her off by gently placing his index on her lips.

"Please, Stell, I prefer not to talk about that," he whispered, his voice filled with sadness, although his eyes were trying to smile.

But as she looked closely inside his green, ocean pools and the sun graced them of its warm rays, his eyes turned into a light, crystal blue and she saw with pain the shadow still lurking beneath them. Her lips tight, she nodded slowly. "Why here?" she asked, not really ready to move from her comfortable position over his chest.

A gentle smile graced his face and he stared at her for a minute before he looked up at the sky, his hands coming to rest behind his head.

"I came here with my dad two days before I was shipped out to Beirut, and I guess like the forest, I still have the impression I'm closer to him when I'm there." He tightened his lips, but managed finally to muster a shy smile. "And in this direction." His hand pointed west. "Behind the horizon of this lake, there's my hometown, Chicago. So even if I can't see it, I kinda feel closer here." His smile turned into a genuine grin as he looked straight toward Stella's gleaming eyes.

"You miss them?" She asked, wondering if he had ever been homesick.

"Sometimes. But I'm good in New York." He quickly added. He didn't want her to think he regretted New York. Of course both cities were different, but he really enjoyed New York, especially when she was around.

A small grin spread over her lips as she let his cologne slowly invade her senses. From her position, right in top of him, she had the best view of his blazing, green eyes and could linger in the warm touch of his body vibrating underneath her. She let out a small sigh of content, and wondered if it wasn't possible for the time to freeze and let her keep Mac this way and that close to her. Even if the shadow was still lurking behind his eyes, he seemed relaxed and she was glad for it.

Mac gazed with delight at her magnificent emeralds staring back at him. He felt almost at peace when she was looking at him this way. Even though this morning had been a total disaster in his book, he was enjoying the moment with her leaned over him as if they were more than friends. His heart squeezed in pain in his chest at the thought of them remaining eternal friends. It wasn't bad, at least he would still get to see her, but deep inside her words about friend had hurt hard. She obviously didn't want to cross that line they had drawn a long time ago and the perspective of seeing her but being unable to keep her in his arms or have her leaning over him like now was stabbing his heart. He honestly had no idea how he would deal with that when they would be back in New York. Few years back, the thing had been different, he had been able to fight his feelings and keep them buried, but now the more he saw her, the more it hurt not to wrap his arms around her when she was in pain or in need of help. He sighed inwardly. But since she had clearly stated she didn't want to get them being more than friends, he would have to deal with her being held in other men's arms. He cringed inwardly at the thought. He hated them already. He sighed again, trying to fight that dark feeling sneaking up inside him. He would have to behave for her. After all, he wanted her to be happy; more than anything else in the world; more than his own life, and if it means him being alone while she was happy, then he would.

"Mac?" she suddenly whispered, her warm voice pulling him out of his thoughts.

He grinned, loving the way his name made its way through her beautiful lips he would have loved to know better. "Yep," he said, his eyes gleaming with content as he shaved away his dark thoughts.

"Before I forget, thanks," she said as she gazed at his gleaming eyes.

"For what?" he asked with a slight frown. He had made her cry this morning and now she was grateful? About what?

She grinned, seeing the question in his eyes. "For this wonderful weekend. Just wanted you to know, in case I forget because my head would be filled with too many good memories."

He raised his head a little, staring at Stella. "Huh, you welcome," he answered with a tight smile, not sure she was right about that. His lips tight, he leaned back his head on his hands and felt her head resting on his chest as well. He smiled, knowing she could have moved from her position a long time ago but seemed to like being pressed over him. He closed his eyes a second, wanting no more than to take a small break from the emotional state his mind had been since this morning, but too drained, his mind quickly drifted off to sleep.

Her ears instantly picked up Mac's slow breathing as he slumbered into sleep. Frowning, she looked up at his face asleep to realize he had really drifted off. With a loving smile, her eyes caressed his jaw line and lingered in the soft admission of him surrendering to her this way. Then, she realized this morning must have really taken its toll on him. Especially for him to let go this way so quickly, even though it meant he was relaxed with her. Happy to be with him and pushing back her own reaction away, she leaned back her head over his chest and let her eyelids dropped too. In a matter of minute, she too was asleep, while the sun kept a warm, fatherly eye over them.

_**xxx**_

He was hot and sweating, and when he opened his eyes, Mac realized he had fallen asleep on the beach. At first, he wondered why Stella hadn't woken him up but when he felt her stirred as well, he knew he hadn't been the only one to fall asleep. Obviously, she too was tired, and with the fear he had involontarily put her through this morning, well, he couldn't blame her. He smiled as she slowly moved and sat beside him, giving him a small pout of apology for having used him like her pillow. He gazed lovingly at her face, she could take him as her personal pillow anytime she wanted, his mind softly whispered.

"You okay, Sleeping Beauty?" he asked, trying to do his best to keep his mind focus on happy moments. She nodded slowly and graced him of the most charming, shy smile he had ever seen. Did she just blush, he realized? _Maybe,_ his mind whispered with a small pride.

She smiled as she glanced toward him and instantly felt her cheeks turning red. Once again, her dreams had taken her into Mac's arms, and she couldn't help but wondered if the dream was really out of her reach and would always remain like that: a dream. _Maybe_, her mind softly spoke. Her lips tight shyly, she gently took the hand he gave her as he stood up and once again, she felt her thoughts drifting back to her dream and into his arms. She swallowed slowly, wondering what was going to happen next. But then, as to answer to her silent question, Mac once again kept her hand in his and led them to the bike. He smiled shyly, and put back his helmet, and shades.

The sun now half way down, Mac realized they had probably drifted off for sometimes as it was close to the end of the afternoon. He wasn't hungry, but knowing Stella and seeing the small salad she had for lunch, he thought that a real diner was in order. But before that she might want to get changed or visit something in particular. He frowned, realizing with shame he hadn't asked her about that.

"You wanna go back to our rooms and freshen up or visit some place?" he asked, but he was almost sure there was no place she had in mind as she didn't know this city. But to his surprise she said yes.

"You drive and I tell you when to stop. Is that okay?" she quipped with a mischievous smile.

His brows rose in surprise but he nodded with an amused smile and slipped on his bike. As he felt her arms gently snaking around him and avoiding both his stitches and his bare skin for once, he wondered what she had in mind. But it was fair that he drove blindly too, as he had done that all the weekend with her. So, far from complaining, he started the engine and took the direction of downtown.

Stella smiled at the easiness Mac had let her take the command of their little trip. Any other guy she had been with had always been quite reluctant to let her take the lead after a while, and almost Mac wasn't the kind to backing down in front of someone, he surely had enough respect and esteem for her to go with her feelings without asking her to explain why. She grinned inwardly. It was because of these little things that she had come to admire and respect him. She knew he wasn't the kind to take offense when a woman took the lead. _Nope_. And she had to admit, all these little things were making him even more attractive and hard to resist to. Whatever he would have asked her right now, she would have said yes without hesitation. She smiled, wondering if placed in the situation to ask her something she couldn't refuse he would do it. Would he use it? She smirked inwardly, knowing him he would probably refuse to do it, his gentleman side taking over and refusing to control her in anyway. Tightening her hold around him, she finally spotted the place she wanted to stop at.

She shouted to overcome the engine roaring. "Pull over here."

Without hesitation, Mac stopped right where Stella had indicated, and as he stopped the engine and looked up, a small frown creased his face. He felt Stella leaving the bike and was going to follow her when she grinned and gave him her helmet.

"Nope, Mac. You stay put okay. I'll be right back." She gently commanded.

He chuckled lightly. And with that, she left him waiting as she entered a small drugstore. A faint smile graced his lips. The way she was behaving so naturally around him was putting him at ease, and he had to admit, he really enjoyed that. His lips tight, he realized he would miss to feel her so close to him when they would be back to New York. He tightened his lips in a sad pout, but it was life and he couldn't do anything about that if she didn't want him in her life.

Ten minutes later, she was out of the store with a small paper bag in hand. She grinned at his small inquiring look and stuffed the bag in the bike. With a mischievous smile, she took her helmet from his hands.

"So what do you want to do now, Stell?" Mac asked. Although he was tired, he was secretly hoping she wanted to spend more time with him, maybe spending the night visiting Buffalo or discovering a special place or even going back to the Falls. After all, it was an amazing show by night, and he was about to propose it when she spoke first.

With her idea in mind, Stella pondered her possibilities but seeing how Mac's eyelids were slowly drooping when he thought she wasn't looking, she would bet he was still tired from the whole week. She smirked inwardly. She wondered if he had even slept a couple of hours this week.

"Ah, I'm kinda tired," she lied. "I guess, maybe going back to our rooms and then freshen up. Was even thinking we could pick up a pizza or order room service, ya know."

His lips tight, Mac nodded. He sighed inwardly, so the evening was over and soon it would be time to go back to New York. He put back his shades on and turned to the front of the bike.

"Pizza sounds great," he said with a fake smile, as she sat behind him and clung to him.

Stella cringed at the tiredness in his posture and the sadness in his voice. Maybe he would have liked to hang around and show her more of this city, she realized sadly. But she could feel his weariness, and somehow, she knew he needed to rest, even if he wanted to please her. No, it was time she had the opportunity to heal the damages she had done this morning, and she hoped he would let her.

He started the engine and slowly pulled out from the small parking lot. Sometime later, and after having parked the bike near the hotel. Mac found himself in front of his door and unconsciously his stomach tightened at the thought of being alone again. He sighed inwardly and glanced at Stella as she opened her door.

"So pizza?" she asked with a big grin.

Unable to resist to her beautiful smile, Mac plastered a shy smile too. "You want I order in?" he asked, not sure where they could share that pizza now. Inviting her in his room could be considered as crossing the line, and him going into hers wasn't a real possibility.

She graced him with a mischievous smile. "Well, you take care of yourself and you join me in my room, in what, forty minutes?"

He stared at her, wondering if he wasn't back in a dream or something similar. His nervousness slowly rose inside his stomach as he realized everything was real. Of course, he was okay with that. But what was she doing? This morning she had raised the barriers of friendship and now she was inviting him in her room? _It's just a room, Mac,_ his mind scolded him. _There's nothing into this, so cool down._ But he had organized that trip and now her taking things in her hand wasn't really nice from him, and made him feel more guilty. "I can order and..." He tried, before she cut him off with her soft laugh. She chuckled and he stopped immediately. "What?"

"Just take your shower, Mac. It's fine. See you then."

On these words, she gave him a playful wink and entered her room. Mac remained stunned, wondering what her playful attitude could mean. Stirring from his surrpise, he took a deep breath as his mind was asking him just to go inside and try to get some rest before he went to see her. He was tired and if he wasn't careful, he felt that he could easily fall asleep at any moment and that wasn't a weakness he wanted to show her, not after he had already show her how weak he was inside.

With a sigh, he pushed the door open, and tossed his jacket on his bed with a wince. His body was aching all over, and his back and stitches burned as if he had hot embers stuck to his skin. With a painful groan, he took off his sweater and dropped his pants on the bathroom floor. Carefully, he pulled on his dressing and was rewarded by a thin line of blood smearing the white fabric, a shooting pain throbbing beneath his skin as cold air graced the wound. He pouted in the mirror, surely he would hear a lot from his doctor when he would go to get his stitches redo, again. He shook his head in misery, and turning to check his back, he noticed a family of red dots and bruises spread in the middle. He sighed. This time, his doc was really going to lesson him again. Stripping down from the rest of his clothes, he stepped into the shower. Water dripped into his messy hair, and quickly, a deep grunt escaped his lips as the warm water slid over his aching body to bite into his new scratches. Although, it hurt where his skin was raw, it felt infinitely good. His forearms pressed against the wall before him, his weary frame tiredly slanted forward. He let out a deep, tired sigh and his forehead leaned against the creamy tiles. Releasing his tensions, he let the appeasing water soothe his hurt body and soul, praying he would be able to make it right with Stella.

_**xxx**_

Out of the shower in no time, Stella had slipped into a pair of casual pants and a short tank top as the warm weather and the privacy of her room allowed her too. Though, Mac would soon be there, she knew her top wasn't too provocative but cut enough to light some sparkles in any man. She tightened her lips, wondering if Mac was going to disapprove. She had to admit, that since this morning and all the events that had happened, she was now less and less concerned by what people could think of her, apart from Mac, of course. She wondered what he would think if she happens to ask him out. Could he say yes? She smiled inwardly, praying he would. But until then, she had to find the courage to pop up the question, and seeing how she had hurt him by her selfishness this morning, she wasn't going to find that courage soon. She bit her lower lip.

Obviously, he wasn't going to leave New York to begin a new life, but his start over thing was still bugging her as he had not really explained what he meant by that. But now, seeing his reaction as he had caught her tears, maybe it could explain why he hadn't said a thing after all. She cursed herself for letting her emotions having the better of herself in moments like these. He had opened up to her, and with her tear she had made him clammed up right away. That sure wasn't something a good friend should be doing. She sighed and glanced at her watch. She had called the main desk to have a pizza and few other things delivered in her room in a few minutes and she wondered how Mac would react to all of this. But then. They were friends, so maybe she could try different approach with him. He wasn't leaving, so why not?

Then, the knock on her door pulled her out of her reverie. As the room service entered, she asked the young kid, about Adam's age, to let the full cart left near the small table and gave him a tip. She grinned as he smiled back. Looking at the cart and then at Mac's door, she sat on her bed, waiting for him to be ready.

After a small minute, a soft knock at the inner door produced a broad smile on her face. "Come in, it's open, Mac," she called.

His heart beating a bit too loudly in his ears, Mac entered Stella's room, wondering why on earth he was so nervous. He had known her for more than ten years now, and had shared more than close moments for two friends. So why his heart was still pounding? Maybe he was more tired than he thought. _Yeah, got to be that._ He knew that he was exhausted, the shower, even if it had been good for his aching body, had achieved to tire him out. Stella smiled as he found her lay on her bed. She had chosen a black casual pants and her flashy green top curved wonderfully her perfect forms. His core instantly warmed inside, but remembering her previous words about their friendship, he was quick to cool it off and clear his head from any non friendly thoughts. From now on, he would have to be very careful around her, he reminded himself.

With a small grin, Stella noticed that Mac was wearing a new pair of navy jeans, while he had opted for his natural black T-shirt she loved so much, though she had never told him. Although her eyes delighted into the dark fabric cladding his chest, she couldn't help but notice his tired posture as he entered her room, a shy grin plastered on his face.

"Hello, handsome," she greeted him, and a sheepish smile instantly lighted his face.

"Well, can I say that you look amazing yourself?" he asked tentatively, his brows rose in wonder.

She grinned. "You may."

He smiled back and felt his body slowly relax.

"I need you to sit over here," she said, pointing at the bed near her.

Mac frowned, but unable to resist at her smile spread over her lips, he walked to her and sat near her.

"Alright," she quipped, a mischievous sparkle in her eye. "I need you to take off your shirt," she said bluntly and watched amused at Mac's stunned expression.

"Sorry, what?" he raised his brows in surprise. No way he was going to strip in front of her. How would he be able to deal with all his tormented emotions if he could feel her eyes on him. And why his shirt? And why stripping anyway, she had wanted them to remain friends, so what now?

"I know you heard me, Mac. C'mon, take your shirt off." She pointed at his shirt with a determine look. "You got hurt this morning. You really thought I was going to let my white knight take all the blows and sleep on it?"

He quirked his brows in understanding, as a small grin plastered on his face. He chuckled. "I'm not a knight, and I'm not hurt, Stell." He lied. "Thanks for the offer but I'm fine and..."

She cut him off, her hand waving in front of him to stop his rambling. "Yeah, yeah I know you're fine. So mister _I'm always fine_, show me your back or I'll make you do it." She teased, her eyes gleaming.

He grinned at her caring behavior, and knew by the trap she had set in her room, he had lost that battle. "You wish I would, huh?" he replied on the same teasing tone. And for a minute, he really thought about letting her trying to undress him. But then, he had no idea if he would be able to control himself then.

"Well, so?" she asked with a broad smile, daring him to provoke her.

"Alright, _Sheena_," teased Mac as he turned and lifted his shirt, revealing his naked back. "I surrender."

"You are wise," she replied with a warm self-satisfied tone. And as she opened the paper bag and dropped its content on the bed, her eyes settled on Mac's bruised back. Her heart immediately squeezed in pain, at the view of the small, purple bruises smeared by small cuts. Gently, she pressed a disinfectant onto the cut, and noticed Mac didn't even flinch. _Must be trying to impress me,_ her mind shot with content and pride as it worked. Once again, Mac was proving her he was the tough marine product she had always seen in him. _Tough but so wounded inside_, her mind added in misery. Then, taking the ointment, she gently rubbed his bruised skin, and noticed with delight, that if the antiseptic bite hadn't made him move, her fingers on his skin were making him shivered slightly.

Mac bit his lower lip. If fighting the small burn of the disinfectant had been a piece of cake, trying to control his body while her soft fingers were caressing his back like that was an impossible mission. Cursing his helplessness before her, he took a slow deep breath and managed to reduce his shiverings.

"Alright," she said after some long minutes. She had to admit, she had taken her time to apply the ointment, indulging herself in the warm feeling of his skin under her fingers. Well, it wasn't everyday that she had the occasion to help him this way. She grinned inwardly, knowing now that he had a positive reaction to her touch. And although there was nothing said between them, she knew for sure now that he wasn't indifferent to her touch. "Your stitches, now."

Mac dropped his shirt, and turned toward Stella, his eyes sparkling with a renewed flame. "My stitches are fine, Stella, thanks. I'll be okay now." He stared at her, his eyes daring her to push further.

Her heart skipped in her chest at the intensity of his gaze. She wondered what would happen if she was pushing and daring to cross the line. For a second, she would have bet his eyes were demanding her to try, to push those barriers they had settled a long time ago. But she wasn't sure she hadn't seen what she wanted to see. "You sure?" She said, finally backing down.

His lips tight, Mac observed her a moment. And then, he lifted his shirt. A white dressing was stuck to his skin and she noted it was clean and white, so he had to be okay. He saw her nodding, and she packed back her things in the paper bag. He sighed inwardly, glad he had thought about changing his dressing in the bathroom. As he had thought, the stitches had reopened once again, and the wound didn't look pretty, so at least, he had spared her to see that.

"Pizza?" she asked, her smile back on her soft lips.

He smiled back and followed her to the cart. He sat in a small chair beside her and as they started to eat and chat, his anxiety faded and he felt his body slowly shutting down.

Stella was talking about the wonders of the nature she had seen in the last two days, and how she had enjoyed every bit of it; when she watched with worries as Mac's eyelids drooped several times while he was fighting to eat his pizza. She knew he hadn't been well in the last past weeks, but witnessing him being so vulnerable and still fighting to keep a conversation with her, was making her heart wrenched in pain. She wanted to hug him and soothe his pain, and tell him how sorry she was for this morning, but her own fear to make things worse whispered her not to.

After an hour of fighting to remain awake, and his head dozing off dangerously a couple of times, Mac decided it was time to leave. Wearily, he stood up, and he saw the look of regret immediately painted on her face. She too seemed to have enjoyed this evening, even if he hadn't been very present, and he was angry after himself for leaving, but he didn't want to fall asleep in her room. He smirked inwardly. Knowing her, he would probably wake up later in the night, with a blanket over him, and still in her room. Though he enjoyed being with her, he knew his dreadful nights weren't moments he wanted to share with her. Especially when he was always waking up because of his nightmares. Last night had been the exception, as she had been with him.

"Thanks for this great evening, Stell," he said as his tired eyes connected with her emeralds. A light glimmered in her pupils, as a silent plea to stay, and he had to control every part of his being not to pull her in his arms.

Stella watched as Mac's eyes conveyed a small sorry as he stepped back and headed to the inner door. With a sad glance, he nodded before he entered his room and left her. Silence wrapped around her. Her lips tight, she walked to the door now closed. Her left hand on the handle, she leaned her forehead on the cold wood. Tightening her lips, her right hand pressed on the door next to her head as if her fingers could passed through the barrier that now separated her from the man she loved more than anything in the world. _Tomorrow_, she repeated to herself, her heart in pain. _Tomorrow, I will ask him._

His jaw clenched from the hot, burning pain seizing his heart. Mac took a step back as the door was closed and leaned his back against the cold wood. _If only,_ his mind shot in despair. If only she hadn't wanted them to stay just friends, then he would have asked her this morning. This whole trip had only been for him to gather enough courage and show her what he was inside. And he would have let her decide if she could give him a chance, but obviously she wasn't ready. He shut his eyes in pain, the back of his head leaning against the door. His right hand softly rubbed his tired eyes that had started to burn from the salty tears that threatened to appear. He swallowed the hard knot in his throat.

"I'm sorry, Stell, but it's gonna be hard to act as if I wasn't loving you," he whispered in torment to his silent room.

_**xxx**_

It had taken her all her strength to finally decide to leave that door that seemed to be a constant barrier between them and to go to bed. But a few hours later, she woke up her heart racing in her chest. As it seemed to happen often lately, she had found herself dreaming of her partner again, but this time things hadn't evolved as usual with him holding her in his arms. No, this time a strong wave had harshly tossed them on the beach and she had witnessed powerless as he was dragged away from her by the sucking, dark waters. Struggling with the waters, he had called her name before he had been swallowed by the dark waters and she had woken up in fear, his screams all too real.

She turned on the light and sat, her knees brought to her chest as she took a deep breath, trying to slow down her beating heart. She glanced at the inner door in front of her. Fortunately, it was all a dream, and Mac was comfortably sleeping behind that door. She shook her head, resisting at the urge on going to check on him, and she was ready to slip back under the sheets when a muffled whimper froze her hand inches of the switch. Her senses in alert, she listened carefully with a frown. And then, she heard it again, but this time she realized the sound was coming from Mac's room. With a feeling of dread nestled in the pit of her stomach, she went to the door and softly knocked. Getting no answer, she decided to enter and check if he was okay.

Although his room was plunged in total darkness, she had no trouble to find him as he was calling her name in pain. With the faint orange light coming from her own room, she made her way to the left side of his bed and turned the light of his nightstand on. "Mac?"

Rolled on his right side, his eyes were firmly closed in pain, and his face glistened, beaded in sweat. "Mac?" she called again, her voice stronger this time. But he didn't react. And as he tiredly rolled to his back with a faint moan, the sheet slipped from his upper body, revealing his bare chest glistening in sweat. A small grin crossed her face as she had suddenly a better look of his well built muscles, but it quickly faded as her eyes stopped instantly on his dressing, now stained with blood, and then, sudden realization hit her.

"Stella," he moaned as a silent tear rolled down his cheek. "Stell..."

Pain wrenched her heart as she cupped his cheek and gently dried the lonely tear with her thumb. Taking a small breath, she softly stroked his cheek. "Mac? I'm here."

His eyes finally opened, and his heavy panting began to slow down. "Stell?" he called, his mind still in the haze of his nightmare. _She's not dead,_ his mind repeated with comfort_, she's not dead._ Before he thought about what he was doing, he wearily raised on his elbows and pulled her to him, wrapping his arms around her. And unlike in his nightmares when she was always limp in his arms, this time her arms snaked around him as well. He closed his eyes, breathing hard her sweet perfume that made her so real and alive. Comforted by her reality, his drained body slowly let go, and his face sagged limply against her neck. He sadly realized in a blur that he wanted to hang on to this reality or dream or whatever it was. He felt his body falling back and he clung at her in despair, hoping to keep her alive in this dream; hoping to remain with her forever.

Stella was surprised by his action, but as her face rested against his wet, burning cheek, she could hear his racing, pounding heart slowing down. Without a word, her arms wrapped around him and she gently accompanied his tired body as he pulled her down toward the bed. She closed her eyes, and after a long silence, she heard his breathing finally coming to a slow, even rhythm. Knowing she wasn't ready to abandon him to his nightmares, her legs softly snaked under the sheets and snuggled against his, meeting the damp fabric of his pants. And as she felt him drifting back to sleep, she tightened her hold around his wet chest, sure this time that no angry wave would take him from her. But as she was going to join him too, her tired mind caught a glimpse of unexpected.

"Don't leave me, Stell," he mumbled in his sleep as his strong arms softly tightened around her.

Her eyes shot opened as she stared at his pale face, bathed in sweat. And in a moment of intense epiphany, she realized that they were both sharing the same fear.

_**...one more to go

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**A/N:** Well, sorry, this chapter was again very long but I didn't see how to stop before, so I hope you don't mind and you still liked it. So, remember to tell me what you thought of it. And have a great Sunday evening. :)


	6. I'll stand by you

**A/N:** Alright, here it's the finale, again it's long, but well, you can take your time to read lol...:)

So for everyone who put this story or added me in their fav or even read but didn't have the time to leave a comment, thanks a lot!

And I want to particularly thank everyone who continuously reviewed, you guys made my day more than once. Millions of thanks to Andorian Ice Princess-Aip, LILKENNY, Stardust585, StellaBonaseraTaylor, shawdoo, Herrera, rocksmacked, Timeforachange, neuhuli, Definitions, DoctorLisaCuddy, miss37, Lindsy, SmackedFan, Aquata, csi kane, Sophia923, Catulicious, jjsaywat97, EverAfterRA, gsr4ever15, MARNIC, xShippyAngelx, danseuse, Smacked-for-life, Katya S, DJ and if I forgot someone please know it wasn't intentional. :)

Be warned, if you can't stand comfort and fluff, I guess this chapter isn't for you, lol :D

This story hasn't been beta-ed, so all mistakes are mine.

Some spoilers...from coming episodes

**Summary:** after a deadly encounter, Mac decides to take a step towards his best friend. Will she fall for a wild guy.... fluffy Romance- you've been warned, with some comfort of course, SMacked all the way.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything, beside the characters I created for this story. CSI NY belongs to CBS and Jerry Bruckeimer.

_Special dedicace to SBT__, Happy Birthday, Girl!

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_Don't leave me, Stell__._ His words echoed in her mind as she looked at his glistening face. His eyes were shut and he had obviously fallen back to sleep. Her heart wrenched in pain at the cry of agony his soul had uttered few minutes ago. Was it possible that they were fearing the same dreadly fate? And if so, was it the only thing that they shared? Could he reciprocate her feelings? But he had never acted as if he loved her, her mind answered in torment. He had always acted as a caring friend, sure, but...her heart raced in her chest, wondering if maybe she hadn't been wrong by assuming he wanted to remain friends.

What if she had mistaken all those years, what if he wanted the same thing; to be with her? She swallowed the tension building in her heart and mind. No, it couldn't be possible. She would have seen some signs. She knew him more than anyone. She had arrogantly told him more than once that she could read him like a book. Had she been wrong all these years? Could he really love her more than a friend?

Her lips tight, her eyes ventured on his tired, feverish features wrinkled from his tensed sleep. He let out a faint _no_ before he twitched restlessly in her arms. A tearing whimper escaped his lips and a faint lonely tear slowly crossed its way down to the back of his neck.

"Shhh," she whispered softly, as she gently cupped his cheek. His frown seemed to fade slowly. With a small sigh, her face pressed against his bare chest, her mind boiling, and asking millions of questions at the same time. What if? What if he was feeling the same thing for her? Her eyelids pressed heavily on her eyes and she knew she wasn't going to fight long now. After all, he was pressed against her, so all her fears had no reason to exist anymore.

Knowing Mac needed a presence right now to keep him away from his nightmare, she pressed her body closer against his feverish, sweaty frame. Carefully, she rested her face against his chest and felt some of his tension slowly fading away. A small smile crooked her face as she could feel his heart now slowly beating and vibrating against her ear. She took a long breath lingering in the soft comfort of his wet, burning skin rising slowly against her cheek and fingers. Softly her hand lingered on his side, indulging herself in the caress of his skin. Her left arm snaked over his chest as to keep him close, and she was rewarded by a sigh of content from his lips. His heart rate regular and his breathing even, she happily slipped into a soft, peaceful dream.

_**xxx**_

A soft tickling over his bare chest made him shifted lightly. His hand lazily made its way to remove the intrusion but his fingers found themselves trapped in a mess of curls. Mac opened his eyes slowly to discover what was the warm fur gently brushing his chest. He didn't remember having an animal or even wearing a shirt as the heat in the room had been too important last night. So, when his blurred vision finally cleared up, he had to blink twice to be sure that he wasn't dreaming. He sure was sick or something like that. In his dreams usually Stella was there but always screaming and dying in his arms. But here and now, it was the first time he could see her sleeping this way; snuggled against his chest as if they belonged together from the dawn of time. Well, not exactly true, his mind shot, it was the second time with yesterday, but surely the first time with him half naked. He frowned, wondering if he was really awake, after all it could be a dream.

He glanced to his right. The early, morning sun was peering through the thin, creamy veil preventing anyone to see inside the room, but leaving enough to let its light in, bathing in a soft rosy light the king size bed and its dwellers. Was this real? His heart raced in anticipation. What if it was? What if Stella was really there, snuggled against his bare chest? _Oh God. _Fear and hope suddenly made his heart race in his chest, wondering what was going to happen. As to answer to his silent question, her arms gently pressed around him, her delicate fingers grazing his skin, and his core started to burn from the warm feeling he felt rising inside him.

He tried to fight the urge of wrapping his arms around her, she had said she wanted them to be friends. He frowned, confused. He was happy to have her pressed against him now, but if he remembered correctly, friends weren't that close. But then, it was his bed, he hadn't been the one intruding. He sighed, but again, she had probably come to help, not out of love. No, it was friendship, nothing else. _So, stop getting your hopes up, Mac. She told you friend. What word didn't you get in 'best friend'._ He sighed. Meaning, he couldn't indulge himself in her vision or even think about hugging or touching her face and tightened his hold around her as much as he wanted. It wouldn't be very respectful of her friendship and all the things she had done for him, right? He closed his eyes not sure he wanted to think right now. He didn't want to leave her, he wanted to feel her body pressed against him just like now. _What do I do now?_ His mind pleaded, the moment her hands moved over his chest as a smoldering fire began to spread through his body. _She probably heard me in a nightmare and she came, so she's not here because of her love, she's here as a friend, to help me._ He winced at the word. _Help._ He wasn't weak, but he supposed that with his confession, she was seeing him now weaker than he could have appeared before. _Good job, Mac._ He ground his teeth, so now she was acting out of pity. He closed his eyes, trying to swallow the hard, bitter truth, he hadn't lost her with his confession, but her pity wasn't something he was ready to deal with.

Carefully, he rolled on his right side, trying not to wake her up. He couldn't face her right now. He wasn't ready to see the disappointment again in her eyes. No, he needed to take a step back and maybe she wouldn't talk about this. He hoped she wouldn't. As her arms and head slowly slid from his chest, her fingers softly grazed his tender skin. He suppressed a surge of warm desire, and tried to focus on his task ahead, freeing himself from her too caring embrace. He didn't want to embarrass her too. She was so strong, and obviously she was thinking he was weak now. How would he be able to see her every morning now? How would he be able to call her on her emotional state in a case that could lead her to her suffering. _Oh God, _once again he had been weak and had failed her. What if he couldn't have any authority over her because of this; and what if she was doing something rash like the last time, when she had almost drowned. His hand rubbed at his face tiredly, as he tried to calm his racing heart. No, he had to move before she could wake up. Careful not wake her up, he gently lifted her head from his chest and lay it on the pillow. She mumbled softly, but her eyes remained closed as he was holding his breath. Then, he lifted her delicate arm and placed it on her side. Maybe they could both forget this night. Wincing as the dressing pulled on his stitches, he silently sneaked out of the sheets and fell on the carpet with a dull thump. He held his breath. She hadn't moved, he noted with relieve, his left hand still on the bed.

Sat on the carpet for a minute, he observed her smiling face, half sank in the fluffy pillow. Swallowing back his fears, he could feel his body aching and shivering from her missing warmth where she had laid few seconds before. It had felt so good to feel her pressed against him, so right. His eyes moistened as he rose to his feet, he couldn't break now. She had seen enough of the weak Mac Taylor. He couldn't behave like that with her, he had to suck it up and be the friend she wanted him to be, even if it hurt him like hell. His hand quickly pressed on his eyes, rubbing the threatening salty water, and then his sight went back to her, his lips tight. He couldn't stop watching her, revering in the privilege of watching her sleep, she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He sighed, his heart in pain and longing for something he knew now that could never happened. _Get real, Mac!_ But he remained beside the bed, his eyes lingering on her fragile frame, knowing he would never get the chance to see her like that.

A few minutes later, after gazing at her sleeping form and afraid of waking her up by his insisting stare, he decided to move. Biting his lower lip and his mind full of regrets, he grabbed his clothes to change and sneaked inside the bathroom. Maybe after a cold shower his mindwould be clear enough and he would know how to get out of this mess without losing her for good. He sighed and closed the bathroom door. The first glance in the mirror told him the things were even worse than what he had thought. His dressing was again clotted with small, red dots, meaning he had reopened his stitches, and seeing how she was wrapped around him, she couldn't have missed it. He clenched his jaw, knowing he would hear about it soon. He sighed and leaned forward against the sink, his hand squeezing at the cold, white ceramic. This wasn't good at all. She might even call him on his lie now, and things could slip out of proportions. _Damn it!_ What was he going to do? Shaking his head, he knew that before starting to get his head upside down, he should get into the cold water. Maybe he would find a solution before she had woken up. Frowning he doubted he would anyway. Sighing heavily, he stripped from the rest of his clothes, and stepped inside the water. He immediately shivered as the cold liquid woke him up. His eyes shut in fear of losing her, he prayed that at least, she would give him a chance to explain.

_**xxx**_

Again she was at the beach and a small breeze was lifting her hair. She smiled as her hair grazed his face. Mac smiled back shaving the curls from his face and playing with the golden curls between his fingers. Her eyes locked with him and she snuggled closer of his chest. She sighed in content, she felt so good there against him, that she didn't want to move. But his warmth suddenly disappeared and she found herself cold although she could still see him. She frowned, shivering lightly. Then, the beach and the shining sea faded. A small sound like water dripping woke her up and Stella realized she was in a bed and not on the beach anymore.

She sighed as she stirred in the cold bed, her head lifted a little to check her room. Once again she was waking up alone. She sighed, all her life had been like that since St Basil, alone. Her head fell back on the fluffy pillow in resignation and a feeling of sad loneliness enveloped her. But then, her thoughts stopped as she realized she wasn't in her room, and the lingering scent of male aftershave from the pillow wasn't hers. No, in fact, it smelled like Mac. A small smile grazed her lips at the mention of her secret love. Then, her memory replayed the event of the night. No, of course she wasn't in her room. She had gone to see Mac and she had stayed with him after his nightmare. Her frown increased, but where was he? She raised on her elbows, her sight scanning the room bathed in a soft, creamy pink light. The sound of water running on her left, informed her that he had to be in the bathroom. But why he hadn't waked her up. Surely he had seen her, they had shared the same bed as friends. _Maybe even more_, her mind whispered with hope, as she now remembered the words he had mumbled while his sleep. _Don't leave me, Stell._ What did he mean by that? She wasn't going to leave him, so why being afraid of her leaving him?

Obviously, her partner could really be a mystery to her sometimes. She fell back on the pillow sighing heavily. _What's going on, Mac? Are you afraid of me? Or of your feelings?_ Her eyes wandered on the white ceiling, biting her lower lip. If he had tried to avoid her, maybe the best course of action was to leave and get back in her room. After all, nothing had really happened last night. They had just shared a bed. And although she could understand his fears, as she shared the same, it didn't mean he loved her. She sighed, that could explain why he was in the shower right now, and not with her. She shook her head with a frown, or he was embarrassed of this night and wanted to avoid her. Unable to decide which theory was the best, she got up and sat at the edge of the bed. Whatever it was, he didn't want to see her right now, so maybe she should just go with the flow and avoid him right now. Maybe it would be easier to talk about this night if she was leaving now. With a deep sigh, her feet connected with the soft carpet, and after a minute, she found herself heading to her room. She needed to get dressed too anyway. But this wasn't over she promised to herself. Yesterday she had almost thought she was going to lose him. This time she would make sure she wasn't wrong with her assumption before starting to get all fussy about it. Closing the inner door behind her, she gave a quick glance at her own bed and headed to the bathroom. No, today she would have real answers.

_**xxx**_

When Mac exited the bathroom he was half expecting to see his bed empty, and as a bad wish coming true, it was. He frowned, wondering why a part of his mind had wanted to see Stella there and waiting for him with her beautiful smile. But he had to get real. She had come because of his nightmare, because she was his friend, nothing else. _Friend_, his mind whispered as to torture him even more. No, the fact she had left at least was giving the opportunity to appear as before, strong, and able to protect her, not weak as he had wrongly showed her yesterday. So it was better that she wasn't here right now. He sighed, though he had hoped she wouldn't have left and that she would have stayed to say that she wanted more, that he had been wrong. But she hadn't stayed. He shook his head. _Stop torturing yourself, Mac. It's done, she likes you as a friend. For her sake and yours tried to get that in your thick head._ He took a deep, desperate breath and started to prepare his bag for the road. He winced as his sweater grazed at his stitches. He hadn't planned to change his dressing that much and so had no more bandage for it with last night. He sighed, the ride home was going to be painful without anything to protect his wound. But the deepest wound was knowing he would have to see Stella everyday and act as a friend with her.

A feeling of doom weighed on his shoulders and he sat on his bed. Slowly his eyes wandered on the inner door, wondering what she was doing. But before his mind could fantasize on anything, a soft knock informed him she was right behind. His heart involuntarily skipped in his chest. What was she going to tell him? Shaking his head, he went to the door, and taking a deep breath he opened it.

A smiling Stella was waiting and he couldn't suppress a growing smile at her sparkling eyes. Quickly, he admired the nice cladding outfit she had chosen for today; navy jeans and boots but what really got his full attention was her black top following her perfect forms so well that his sight caressed her side all the way to her neck and to the plunging V neck. Gosh, his core instantly burned at the desire he felt soaring through him. He raked his throat and took a step back to let her in. Her eyes staring at him with a shy smile, her sweet perfume instantly arose more body parts than he wanted and he had to take a long, deep breath to get back in control. If only she knew the effect she had on him, his mind pleaded.

"Morning, Mac," Stella said, with a mischievous smile, her tone implying he should have told her that the minute he had woken up. He bit his lower lip.

_Ouch_. That had to be for him leaving her alone. But what could he have possibly done, with her wanting to remain friends. Part of his brain wanted him to be angry after her for jumping at him like that after she had clearly stated that she wanted them to remain friends and was now calling him on that. But most of him, couldn't be angry after her. He had provoked that weekend, and if anyone was responsible for this mess, it was him. His lips tight, he looked at her with remorse.

"Well, sorrry for last night...I don't...usually..." He frowned, but before he could continue, she cut him off with another smile and her hand gently pressed over his chest, her eyes gleaming with something he had rarely seen. His breath was cut short at her move, and he looked at her, almost pleading her to stop teasing him this way. This was unfair. How could he remain in control if she was touching him or looking at him like that. It was just pure torture. He frowned. _Guess you deserved it for showing your weakness,_ his mind scolded him harshly.

"Ah, it's okay Mac, told ya, we take care of each other, right?" She took a step back, feeling his anxiety rising within the minute. What was going on with him? He had never felt that nervous with her when she was doing that? So why now? Was he embarrassed for the night? She gazed at his nervous green eyes, glancing in the room as to try to find a way to escape, though he remained standing in front of her.

Then, he slowly nodded, and a faint blush shyly covered his cheeks. "Thanks." He smiled unable to get mad after her. So, she had come to help as a friend, his mind added in torment. _Told ya not to get all crazy about this. You are friends, just friends_. He took a deep breath, and walked to his bag, his back to her. "You're ready?" he asked without looking at her.

"Ah, not yet, still have something to do before we leave." She said, a bit enigmatic.

He glanced at her and stuffed his torn sweater inside his bag. "We're not in a hurry, we can leave when you're done." He turned to hide his sight and focused on the ininteresting content of his bag.

She smiled and stepped before him. She showed him the paper bag she had in hand. "Alright then. Take your sweater off." She ordered gently, as she spread the content of her bag on his bed.

"Stella," he started but she turned to him, her smile replaced by sorrow and pain and he stopped immediately. She obviously wasn't ready to hear about his excuses.

"C'mon, Mac. Let me take care of these stitches and please don't tell me you're fine, just humor me, ok?" she stared at him, her heart racing in her chest, wondering if he was going to accept her help.

This night had been maybe the only time he had showed so much weakness to her, and she wasn't sure he had coped with her reaction or even with his own this morning. She had thought a lot about it in the shower, and she had come to the same conclusion as the day before. He had probably left this morning afraid she would think he was weak. She sighed inwardly, if there was one thing Mac Taylor wasn't, it was to be weak. Whatever had happened in his life, he had always managed to get back to his feet, with her help sometimes but most of it alone. So no, he was definitely not weak. But she knew that right now if she was telling him that he wouldn't believe her. Probably thinking she had acted out of pity, she smirked inwardly. _Damn it, Mac! Can't you see how much you mean to me?_

He frowned, feeling his heart wrenched in pain. He couldn't bear to see her sad, and seeing her eyes and why she was here this morning, again, he was responsible for it. He bit his lower lip. "I guess there's nothing I can refuse you," he softly whispered, and he had the pleasure to see her smile slowly growing back on her lips.

"So glad you realize it. C'mon, sit here," she teased him. Maybe there was hope for them after all, her mind softly whispered.

With a small breath, he lifted his sweater and passed it over his head with a muffled groan. The move was pulling more on his stitches and the constant turmoil his mind was in hadn't helped to give him a rest. His lips tight in a guilty pout, he sat on the bed. His heart beat furiously in his chest as Stella looked at his bare chest. It was the second time since he knew her she was giving him this look as her sight wandered over his bare skin. He could hear his heart beating fast behind his ears, wondering what she was thinking of him like this. Of course, she had all the time to watch him last night, but he had been asleep, and now that he could feel her eyes on him, he was getting more and more nervous. _Friends,_ his mind repeated in his head to help him get in control of his body._ Only friends._

Biting her lower lip, Stella had to control herself as she could watch his muscles tensing and moving beneath his perfect skin. _C'mon, Stell, get a grip. He's wounded and need help, not your hungry stare._ _God, this is going to be hard,_ she thought, _why did I propose to do it? Because you know he's not gonna take care of himself. _With tight lips, she crouched before him, and her eyes locked with his. She could read his pain mixed with guilt and shame. _Shame? _Oh no, he was really thinking he was weak then. Her heart wrenched in pain.

Slowly, her sight went down, noticing the smooth curves near his neck; his bone protruding at the start of his chest and the scar over his heart. Hiding her pain, her sight continued to go down, following the small crook drawing the center of his chest and finally the raw wounds going from almost one side to the other. Her heart was torn in pain. She hadn't seen the extent of his cut before, and now she could see that the damned bastard hadn't just tried to scare him. No, the blade had slashed over his last rib to the middle of his chest, several times. Her worries increased as she could count three major slashes and two smaller. The small ones looked almost healed, but the three others were sewed with black stitches and as she stared at the wound she could see, he had reopened them even deepening the cut which was now leaving faint traces of blood other the pad she was using to clean the wound. She looked up and caught him frowning in remorse.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "You shouldn't have seen this."

She sighed. "Mac, you got those protecting me. I didn't know he had cut that deep. Why you hadn't told me?"

He let out a tired sigh. "I didn't want you to worry for nothing."

She shook her head as she pressed the pad with disinfectant on it. "Mac, this isn't nothing. It's about you. And...And you're my best friend, how could I not worry about you?" It was hard to use that word now, friend, but she didn't know how she could tell him.

He cringed at the word and nodded. "Yeah, best friend," he muffled bitterly between his clenched teeth, his head sagging to his chin in defeat.

"Have you slept since that day," she asked with worries, her eyes unable to leave the chewed up skin.

His tired, green pools met hers and she knew the answer was no. He hadn't, and if her assumptions were correct, he hadn't healed because of his nightmares. She took a deep breath, wondering how long he was going to hold on at this rhythm. If he wasn't sleeping and the only moment of sleep he had were to reopen his wounds, when would he heal? He was going straight toward exhaustion, if he hadn't passed that point already. But with him, sleep deprivation was so common that it was hard to really know when he had passed the breaking point. Her lips tight, she stared at the pain lingering in his weary eyes. Probably wasn't far from it, she realized with dread. But what could she do about it? And instantly she knew that going back straight home today would be wrong. She had too many questions in her head to let him go back home to his tormented world.

Softly, her delicate fingers wrapped a clean dressing over his stitches, and the burn slowly faded. He was thankful for her help, but staying so close of her and feeling her fingers on him was more excruciating than any blades. It was hard to keep his desire at bay when he could feel her warm breath tickling his bare chest. When she was done with his wound, he quickly got up and slipped into his sweater. "Thanks."

Stella frowned as Mac was already dressing up. "Don't forget your back, Mac," she said with a small grin. Like yesterday, she knew she was already going to take her time to spread some ointment on his bruises.

Mac froze, her words just sinking into his preoccupied mind. "It healed since yesterday," he quickly replied. Clearly, he couldn't have more of her fingers on him right now or his heart was going to shut down. "I'm good," he added, seeing her smile fading. "What about your wrist?" He asked. Since they had hit the road he hadn't seen her changed the dressing at all.

"I did it already," she answered, pushing it aside. She was fine. She slept her, and her wound was healing properly, not him. "But your back needs..." she tried.

"I"m fine," he cut her off. But seeing her sad glare, he softened his voice. "I'm okay, Stell. We should go." He slipped into his jacket and grabbed his bag, looking back at her with a pleading look.

Stella watched him getting ready to leave. For a minute, she wondered if he wasn't afraid of her, but why? With a slight frown, she stood up and packed her improvised med kit in the paper bag. Something told her, she would have good use of it again. But hopefully, she hoped it would only help him getting better than the contrary. She nodded and headed to the inner door. "Give me a minute," she said with a sad tone, avoiding his eyes.

His lips tight, he nodded. He knew he had hurt her by refusing that she took care of his back, but really he wouldn't have been able to resist to her tempting touch on his skin like that. She wanted them to remain friends, and he wouldn't be able to do that with her hands on him. it would be too hard, too painful. No her warm breath on his chest had provoked enough burning feelings inside him that he was already on edge. If only she could realize the effect she had on him and gave him a break. Somehow deep in his mind, he was really wondering if friends were behaving like they were doing right now. Maybe it was why, people assumed a man and a woman couldn't be friend without having sex first. Gee, why did he have to think about that now. He shook his head his core on fire as his mind tortured him with images of Stella pressed against him but this time not just to nurse his wounds. _God, Mac, get a grip already_.

"Friends," he repeated between his clenched teeth. _Only friends._

"Okay, I'm ready," said Stella as she came back, his old leather jacket on her shoulders and her bag in hand.

_Definitely better on her than me_, his mind shot in delight as he noticed the jacket. "Okay, let's go." He made a move to grab her bag, but she stepped back with a small grin.

"I know, you, _White Knight_ like to serve, but I'll be fine, Mac," she teased, keeping her bag.

His lips tight, he looked at her with an amused smile, feeling his playful mood back at her reference of white knight. He lightly chuckled and opened the door for her, and noticed that at least she accepted his gallant move.

"Thank you, Handsome," she threw back with a smile to her ears.

Not sure what valued him all this charming nicknames in so little time, Mac frowned but decided that as long as she was happy, then anything else didn't matter. And honestly, her calling him like that was helping him to find his strength back for the return trip.

Stella smiled at the small sparkles she could see in Mac's eyes after she had called him _Handsome_. Surely, not a lot of women had called him like that seeing how he had reacted the first time. And somehow she was a bit happy about that, not that he deserved that name, no, to the contrary. He deserved it more than some of the boyfriends she had known. But since none of his girlfriends had obviously called him like that, then, she was happy she would be the first and only one. She knew that he had been taken aback by her playful attitude but while she had packed her things, she had realized that she wouldn't be able to talk to him if his mind was still clouded with his usual, dark shadows. So instead of talking right now about last night, or why he didn't want her to help with his wounds, she had opted for a less straight forward strategy. First, going straight back home wasn't the right solution, and two, he was clearly too preoccupied to be left alone. No, this weekend had been magic for her, because of him, and she intended to give him back some of this magic. She had no idea how. But she surely wasn't going to let him fall and crumbled under his dark nightmares. She cared too much about him and if she had to tie him around a tree to make him talk then she would do it. A smile grazed her lips as they reached his Harley and an idea formed in her head.

Mac stuffed their bags inside his bike and glanced at Stella. She seemed lost in her thought, and he wondered what or who could keep her busy like that. Surely not a friend, like him. He sighed inwardly, knowing today was their last day of freedom before going back to their old costume of professional CSI, friends and colleagues. His lips tight, he sat on his bike.

"You ready?" he asked as she wasn't moving.

"Where are we going?" she asked in dread, and wondering if he would agree to her suggestions.

Mac swallowed the knot in his throat. He didn't want to go home, but feeling her so close and having to behave as a _friend_ while she would keep teasing him like this morning was pure torture. "Home," he said bitterly, his sight wandering in the street where few cars were driving. It was still early as the sun was grazing the horizon, but they had a lot of miles, and surely she wanted to get back soon to her apartment and get rid of her invading _friend_.

His words struck a chord inside her, but she was ready for it. She bit her lower lip, and her eyes connected with his green pools.

His core immediately burned at the fire her sparkling emeralds sent to him the minute she stared at him. It was like her intense gaze had pierced through all his layers of protection and had trapped his soul in her grasp. _Oh yes, _his mind muffled in torment_. She had trapped my heart and she had no idea she had that power over me._

"Hm, was wondering if we could do a detour to that lovely forest we were yesterday. Haven't got the time to really appreciate all its beauty," she proposed with a grin.

His nervousness back, Mac wondered what he should do. He couldn't refuse her anything. After all, he had initiated that trip, and backing down now because he felt uncomfortable when she was around him wasn't fair. _No, correct that,_ his mind scolded him, he felt too comfortable around her and that was the problem. He sighed inwardly, he would never feel uncomfortable with her, never.

She could see he was pondering his next move, but as he looked up and she met the warmth in his green, ocean eyes, she knew she had opted for the right strategy. Somehow he had decided that this weekend belonged to her, and he would do exactly what she wanted to, just to make her happy, she realized with content.

He mustered a weak grin over his lips. "Alright City Girl, let's go back to the magical forest," he said with a light chuckle as he sank his helmet on his head and slid his shades on his nose. _At least, I can do that for her._

With a wide grin, she attached her helmet too and gracefully slipped behind his back. Her body automatically warmed at the contact of his body rubbing against her, and she had to bit her lower lip not let him show what effect he had on him. She hoped her plan wasn't going to be her death, because she didn't know how long she would be able to resist to the contact of his body pressed against her like that. But surely, she was going to enjoy that day. And with a light grin, her arms snaked around his waist. With delight, she felt him shivered at her touch over his jacket.

His core on fire, Mac took a small breath as her arms wrapped around him, still mindful of his dressing. But the minute her fingers pressed over his stomach, even with his jacket on, he was brought back to the day before, and he winced, aching that her fingers hadn't slept accidentally under his shirt. He wanted to feel them on his skin. _No, Mac, you can't, _his brain shot._ You are friends. Friends don't do that._ With a firm frown, he focused his sight on the road, and pulled into the traffic._ I'm doomed, _he realized in dread.

_**xxx**_

An hour later, as the sun bathed their road of its warm golden rays, they stopped near a small coffee shop. They had left Buffalo's small, industrial suburb and the road had gently led them back near the forest. Stella was glad to see the green trees appearing in her line of sight. But the minute Mac pulled over on the side, she wondered if he hadn't changed his mind and wanted to tell her that they would finally head for New York instead..

Deciding he wanted to spend his last free day with her smiling by his side, Mac pulled on his bravest face. He forcefully pushed aside his misery, knowing he would soon be back to his place, alone, and that this weekend would remain his biggest, human failure for having showed a little too much to Stella. He sighed inwardly, he would eternally wonder if it wasn't his weak side that had made her decided that they should remain friends. But he owed her the truth about himself. He couldn't try to be part of her life and not be honest with her. If they had taken a step together he would have wanted it to be with her knowing that he wasn't as strong as she could imagine. But now, he just hoped this wasn't going to change their relationship at work. Hopefully not. He took a deep breath, and his dark thoughts buried for today, he gave her his best, charming smile.

She smiled at the carming smile he gave her and noticed the coffee shop. Her fear shaved away, she gracefully slipped off the bike. Mindful to remain on her two feet, Stella grinned when he gave her his hand, and that, even if she was okay, gladly accepted. Any little touch with him was gratefully appreciated. His hand entwined with hers, he led her to the coffee shop, and she couldn't suppress a broad smile as it seemed his playful mood was back too.

As they sat in a small booth across from each other, Mac stole a shy glance toward her delicate shape as she took her jacket off. A small smile played on his lips, enjoying the long V neck of her black, short top she had chosen for today. Surely, if she hadn't repeated the word friend so often, he would have bet she was trying to arouse the man in him, and honestly she was succeeding. His cheeks softly blushed and he had to look at the window to stop the warm desire growing up inside of him. _C'mon, Mac, you can't think like that, she's your friend. _He sighed inwardly. _And I'm a man, give me a break, _he replied bitterly to his brain. He took a small breath, and he looked back at her. His eyes crossed Stella's and he was reminded of her inner beauty as she gave him an intense look of warmth and love. He swallowed slowly. _Oh God._ He wasn't going to last the day if she continued to look at him with her eyes like that as if she was ready to devour him. Suddenly feeling very hot, he remembered that he had no wound to hide anymore and so could get rid off his jacket too.

She frowned as she watched him taking off his vest, a small wince tugged at the corner of his lips. Then, he sat back, his gaze avoiding her. She smiled inwardly, knowing it was her sight that had made him uncomfortable, but this way, she had all the time to indulge herself in his strong, well-built shape. Although she had this morning while helping him with his dressing or last night; but every time his wounds had taken over and she hadn't got the time to indulge herself into the perfect crook at the base of his neck. A sheepish smile grew over her lips. Or into the soft, lightly, flushed skin she could discern appearing in the small curve made by the collar of his sweater. But then, it was over as he turned back and a waiter came to take their orders. Warmth invaded her cheeks as she felt he had caught her inquiring sight. But he didn't call her on that. In fact, the strange thing was that he seemed to look at her, his sight peering into her soul as to decide what he should do with her.

As the waiter left with their orders, his eyes narrowed wondering why she was looking at him with those eyes. He just couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He was a detective, God damn it! And since the beginning of this weekend he hadn't been sure of anything with her. _Why?_ Why the look in her eyes seemed to be demanding something that she had loudly expressed she didn't want. He sighed inwardly. He was confused. He had always been able to read if people were telling the truth or not, but not with Stella. Since day one he had refused to try to find answer in her eyes. She was his friend and deserved his trust, he couldn't look for an answer, but right now, he was just finding himself doing just that. He swallowed his shame of invading her private life. No, he had to get real, she had been clear about them remaining friends; the only thing that he could see was his own refusal of letting her go.

The waiter brought their coffee and without a word they both sipped quietly the black, steaming liquid, only leaving the mirror of their reflection to stare at the other, questions in their eyes. What was just going on with her? Mac wondered. Why she couldn't stop looking at him like that? Every glance she was giving him, was setting his body on fire. And it was becoming more and more difficult just to remain calm before her. Feeling his anxiety growing, he knew he had to do something to stop his core from burning or he would vaporize in flame just before her.

"We won't be able to remain long in the forest. I'm on call tomorrow morning," he stated hoping she was going to abandon that enflaming gaze.

She pouted at the memory of work. Feeling suddenly back into reality, her eyes wandered back into her coffee cup.

Mac let out a small sight as her devouring eyes left his frame. Finally able to cool down his enflamed body, he finished his cup and looked at her, his hands snuggled around the cup. His lips tight, his sight wandered over her delicate form. He couldn't suppress the desire of feeling her hands on him. He shook his head sadly, but kept gazing at the soft crook offered by her neck, before his sight wandered up to the slow pulse of her vein beating beneath her ear. Last night had been an accident, he reminded himself. His body would never get the chances of seeing her soft fingers on his bare skin again.

Finishing her cup of coffee, she looked up to see him gazing at her. For a brief second, she saw him blushed, and was sure that this time he hadn't looked at her like a friend. No, he wasn't. She frowned and watched as he stood up nervously and slipped in his jacket. _Caught in action,_ she realized with a mischievous smile.

He dropped a handful of bills on the table. "You ready to go," he asked his anxiety building up as she had caught his inquiring gaze. Surely she was going to lesson him today or tomorrow about how friends should look at each other as he was sure she had seen him look at her with anything but friendship. He gulped the knot in his throat as she glanced at him with sparkles in her eyes. Oh he was so going to pay for that, he could already feel it. _Damn it!_

"Ready," she said as she slipped her jacket on and followed him as he was already heading for the exit.

He slid his shade on his nose as soon as he was outside and took a deep breath of fresh air, trying desperately to slow down his beating heart. He could hear her steps behind him and his anxiety increased even more. He sighed, he was amazed how he could deal with the worst bad guys crawling on earth, and still feel so vulnerable when she was around. Like with Claire, he realized, his mind whispering her name with pain. His beating heart slowed down instantly at the painful mention of his dead wife, and he realized how much he missed her. His mind still clouded by his pain, he didn't feel right away as Stella had stopped beside him and was intensely watching him.

"You okay, Mac?" she asked, seeing a pain she had seen too often on his face. Even with his shades on, she knew when his mind was back with Claire, like now. "You know she's watching over you, buddy, right?"

Mac turned toward her, stunned by her words. How did she know that? How could she know every time his mind was taking him back to her? His mouth opened but no sound came from it, and he just stared at the woman that had trapped his heart the same way his late wife had done more than a decade ago. No, all he could really do was nod awkwardly.

"C'mon. Let's get back to the forest," Stella said playfully, snaking her arm around his. "I want to see that famous Old Man Creek."

Mac lightly chuckled as he let himself being dragged by his partner. And suddenly the weight pressing his heart was lifted and he lingered in the beautiful sight of a smiling Stella leaning against him. It felt so good when she was doing that.

"Well," he tried, his voice half paralyzed by the shadow of his old pain. "I think we could be there in less than an hour...And I'll be happy to show you the place."

Her grin widened at his proposal. "I'll be honored," she lightly teased.

Taking a deep breath, his hand patted her arm snaked around his, delighting in the soft comfort of her presence. With a broad smile he sat back on his bike and ready to get back on the road, he felt her body gently rubbing his as she was done with her helmet too. With delight, her frame pressed against his back and wrapped her arms around him. For a second, he delighted in the warm, comforting presence of her against him, and then, he gently led the bike on the road.

_**xxx**_

Less than an hour later, and after having entered a small path protected by the shelter of the branches over them, Mac finally stopped near a giant, fallen tree. He quickly jumped off the Harley and got rid off his helmet and Stella's to help her climb down. He smiled as she gladly accepted his hand and as if the forest had a magical power over them she stared back at him, her eyes sparkling in quiet expectations. He couldn't suppress a grin as he kept her hand in his. His doubts shaved away by her gentle smile, he led them by a small trail among the bush his heart skipping in his chest. He had never showed that place to anyone, not sure he had to be proud or ashame of his adventure at the Old Man Creek. But he couldn't refuse anything at Stella, and as his feet got him closer of his secret place as a kid, he couldn't suppress the little hope that had started to form inside his heart after the coffee shop. He had almost died in this place. But the forest had somehow helped him to survive and be the man he was today. He knew there was some magic here, and maybe, yes maybe he prayed that his assumptions and even her words near the Falls had been a mistake.

He hoped with all the strength of his soul, that his mind had been so clouded that he had missed something; that he had been too busy to see the real truth; that his ears hadn't heard her right yesterday. Seeing how she had looked at him less than an hour ago had awoken his hope. He knew it was foolish to hope as he was doing right now, and it was going to hurt even more when he would wake up of his dream being turned down a second time. But he couldn't suppress his hope. It was all he had left. The only thing that kept him sane everyday. Hope to find Claire after the towers had crumbled; hope his dad would survive to his cancer; and now hope Stella felt something more than friendship toward him. He knew it was the act of a fool to hope like that. And maybe he was becoming crazy. Claire had never been found, and his dad had painfully died, diminished by his growing cancer. So the odds that Stella hadn't really meant her words yesterday were close to nothing. But inside he couldn't stop hoping. It ached and hurt so much inside that he had to try. Even if he had always hidden it from his team, he knew he couldn't live without hope, nor without Stella. He had made it after 9/11 because she was there. And now if he was honest with himself, he didn't know how he would be able to go on if he was losing that last bit of hope. If Stella had really meant that.

He closed his eyes, his lips tight in pain. Blind, his foot stepped on a dead branch. The piece of dried wood instantly broke under his weight, and he stumbled backward. In a reflex, he let go Stella's hand not to drag her in his fall, and found himself falling backward in a mess of wet leaves and broken branches. Panting, he remained on the ground, his eyes staring at the blinking sun through the green canopy over him. Why can't he get a break? his mind asked in misery.

"Mac?" called Stella with a worried voice as she bent over him. One second, he was quickly walking before her and the next, he was losing his footing and falling on the green, mossy ground.

"Yeah, fine," he said, muffling his pride. _Good job, Mac. Now she's gonna think you can't even stay on your two feet._ With tight lips, he stared back at her worried emeralds bent over him. "I'm okay, Stell," he lightly chuckled, trying to reassure her. His pride had taken the hit, but besides that he was fine.

"You had to be really preoccupied not to see that bark," she stated, certain his mind had been so far away again. She sighed, and sat on the ground before him, crossing her legs under her body. "Ya know you can't talk to me, right?"

"I'm okay, Stell." He raised on his elbows and muffled a wince at the new bruise he had probably added at the family currently living in his back.

She smirked as she looked at him, before her eyes raised to the crown of the trees in disbelief. "If you say so," she said but something in her voice made him frowned.

"I'm sorry if I worried you," he blurted out. "I just added a bruise, nothing else, okay," he added in truth. He waited to see if she believed him.

"You gonna have to stop that, Mac," she stated bluntly, her firm gaze on him.

_S__top what?_ His mind screamed in dread of her talking about his love for her. Was she talking about that? _Please no._

"You can't put yourself in harm's way to protect me, Mac. I'm a big girl." She uttered with a determine tone.

"I know you are." He sighed as he sat on the ground, looking at the small scratches on his right hand. "I thought you didn't need to fall with me, that's all."

"I'm not just talking about that fall, Mac. I'm talking about these past weeks. The branch yesterday, and that perp the other time, the same that gives you..." her voice trailed off as she looked at his wounded chest. She sighed deeply as her eyes locked with his.

"That bastard would have killed you," he blurted out with anger. Then, his eyes looked down at the ground, lost in the small brown leaf, angry about his own outburst. His voice softened. "I had to act."

"And tossing yourself in him was the best way? What about your gun? You could have shot him?" She asked with pain as she could remember the fear she had felt the minute she had seen him bleeding.

He shook his head. "I... I wasn't sure I would have stopped him before he..." His brows creased and he bit his lower lip. "I mean, it was too risky, Stella. I couldn't take that risk. I couldn't have you..." his voice trailed off and his green ocean gaze connected with her emeralds. No, being between the blade and Stella had been the only way to be sure she wouldn't get hurt, that he was sure of it. He had taken the right decision.

His lips tight, she could see fear lingering in his eyes as he talked, but not for him. He had feared for her. And then, she read his determination as he explained why he had acted like that. _Sacrifice._ The word popped in her head like a cold blade. He had been ready to give all he had that day, she could see it in his eyes. She clenched her jaw. She had known that, but somehow she had hoped he had stepped before that blade with a plan, or with a clue she hadn't noticed before, and knowing that it was the only solution he had found. Until then, she had pondered why he hadn't shot the guy. But his answer was even more meaningful. Because he couldn't be sure. Mac had always been sure in his life, and that day, that single day, he had acted to be sure she would be alright, no matter what. She closed her eyes firmly feeling wet tears threatening them.

"You got to stop that, Mac," she repeated as she opened them, fighting furiously the tears. "I can't have you put your life at stake for me like that."

He chuckled lightly as he stood on his legs, and handed his hand for her. She grabbed it and standing up, she found herself gazing at the deep, green pools of his eyes, her face inches of his as he slowly bent.

"I'm the boss." He whispered into her ear.

His warm breath tickled her neck, sending shivers along her spine as she remained frozen before him.

"I'm okay with what I did." His warm voice continued. "And I'm sorry to worry you." Then, he stepped back his intense gaze piercing into her emeralds. Looking far away to his right, he squeezed his hand in hers.

"Mac..." but before she could add anything, he turned back, his lips tight in remorse and a pleading gaze toward her, his eyes silently asking for her forgiveness. Her lips tight, she nodded. Of course she forgave him. Though she didn't agree with him playing with his life for her. But she was sure that at the next occasion he would do just the same thing. She sighed as she followed him.

For at least five minutes none of them spoke, each thinking at what the other had said. Only the humming forest and the singing birds accompanied them, the wind softly brushing their flushed faces.

But after a while and lost in her thoughts, Stella bumped into Mac as he had stopped abruptly. He turned toward her a boyish grin, and she noticed the slow rumble from a fall coming in front of them. It wasn't as intense and powerful like the ones he had showed her yesterday, and yet, she could feel him tense involuntarily. She smiled back and as they stepped closer to the fall, his hand tightened around hers even more as if he was afraid of something.

His anxiety rose again. He wondered if it was a good idea to bring her here. After all, this falls was dangerous, it was why his dad had forbidden him to go at the first place. Though he had to admit he had spent a lot of time there the following years. Exploring them, learning how to hide and all the small places to watch the animals. He glanced worriedly at Stella. He knew she was going to be careful, and yet a nasty feeling was back in the pit of his stomach, and the more they were getting closer, the more it gnawed at his gut.

After a long minute and Mac had shaved away the dense branches before their path, she finally was able to look at the place that had almost taken her partner some thirty years ago. She realized, amazed that he had been right. They had arrived from the top of the fall and that place was amazing. Even, breathtaking as she could see the mesmerizing fallen water dripping in a shining veil into a gorgeous pool of turquoise beneath her. No, cobalt blue, she corrected with a small grin. Careful not to slip, she bent more toward the fall to peer down at the pool. Mac tensed even more as his hand closed on hers. Not wanting to add to his already stressed mind she stepped back from the wet, rocky edge and turned toward him with a grin.

"You fell from here," she said her eyes wide in worry and mostly impressed he had survived to that fall. Even at ten he was a big piece to tackle down, she realized with pride.

"Not exactly where you are, but a few feet to your left, yes. And I got lucky." He stated his anxiety still up as he exchanged a small glance toward the edge and bit his lower lip. He didn't like to see her so close to the edge. This fall was treacherous, he knew it, he had fallen from here thinking it was safe. Of course, he was ten at the time but that didn't change a thing.

She took a step toward him, avoiding the empty space behind her, and his muscles slowly relaxed. His mind more at ease, he gazed at her smiling face, wondering again why she had given him that look at the coffee shop.

"Are you afraid of me?" he blurted out, not realizing right away that he had uttered his thoughts aloud. He remained calm and closely observed her reaction, although his heart was madly beating in his chest. At first, she seemed shocked by his words, but then a light crease appeared on her face.

"I'm not afraid of you, Mac." Why did he ask that? Although the question had taken her aback she could feel that there was something else hidden behind it. "Why do you think I should be?" she softly asked.

His lips tight, he pondered if he was right to ask her that. If he was wrong, if her words had been true near the falls, then, he was slowly destroying what they had built. But if his gut was right, if the sparkles he had seen this morning in her eyes were true, then. He bit his lower lip. No, he had to know. He took a deep breath and locked his eyes in hers. "Because all these years, every time I proposed my help you gently pushed it away..." His voice trailed off as he let go her hand and stepped toward the rocky edge of the fall, showing her his back. His hands resting on his hips, his head sagged before him. He let out a small sigh of pain, his eyes lost in the turquoise pool beneath him; as his boots grazed the wet, mossy ground. "I mean, when I proposed you my spare bedroom when your condo burned." His hand rubbed at his mouth. "Or all the times I ask you if you wanted to share a cab, all the little things I...I tried to," he paused, looking at her eyes as she had stepped beside him, not noticing she had stepped closer to the slippery edge.

She stared at the green pools of his eyes and noticed the pain that had returned. "I'm not afraid of you, Mac." She bit her lower lip, her eyes wandering on the mossy, wet rocks. "I think all these years I wanted to prove to you and to myself that I could do it alone." She paused, taking a small breath. "I'm not used to ask for help, nor accept it when it's gently offered."

His lips tight, he nodded, his eyes full of remorse. "I'm sorry I shouldn't have asked you that."

Feeling his pain soaring through his heart, Stella stepped closer but her left foot suddenly slipped on the wet, mossy edge and gravity quickly claimed her to the left. _Oh God,_ she thought as she felt her hand shaving the air to find something to grab on but there was none.

His words stopped in his throat the minute he saw her feet missed the edge and her body slanted toward the deadly fall. His heart racing, he extended his hand, and grasped with dexterity at her wrist shaving desperately the air. His fingers quickly wrapped around her skin, and with a strong pull, he tugged her toward him. Afraid she could still fall, he took two giant steps backward to take them on a safe ground. His strong pull made her collided with his chest, and he instinctively wrapped his arms around her. His heart hammered painfully in his chest. He had almost lost her, again. He tightened his hold around her, unable to let her go. His head hurt and the world disappeared in a blur around him. He could see her smiling face printed before him, falling and calling his name and it was suddenly too much. He couldn't take it anymore.

Her heart beating furiously behind her ears, she suddenly found herself in Mac's strong arms, unable to remember how he had managed to save her from this deadly fall. Her face pressed against his warm chest as his arms tightened around her to hold her close. She was slowly realizing what she had escaped from, when she felt his body slightly trembled against her. His face nestled in the crook of her neck and his small tremors increased. She was okay, why was he trembling like that?

"Mac, I'm okay," she said, her voice still trembling from escaping to her deadly fate. Her hands pressed on his back. "I'm okay." She could feel his body breathing heavily, and her ear picked up his heart hammering too quickly in his chest. If she wasn't doing something she was afraid it would explode. Softly, she stroked his back to reassure him.

"I'm sorry," his croaked voice mumbled in her neck. "I'm sorry, Stella."

"It's not your fault, Mac. You saved my life again. I'm okay, now." She repeated as her hand pressed at the back of his neck. He was burning, and starting to be wet as if he was running a fever. What was going on? "Mac?" she called, worried.

"Sorry, Stell, but I can't live like that anymore..." his muffled voice echoed in her ear.

_Oh God,_ she realized, he was breaking. "Mac?" Her voice pleaded softly._ Please make him be alright._

"I'm sorry," he repeated, as if he couldn't hear her anymore. "I'm so tired. I can't fight it. I'm not strong enough, Stella." He lowered his voice to a whisper. "Sorry... I know you said you wanted us to remain friends, and..." he took a deep breath and his tremors slowly faded as he stepped back from her.

She could see his eyes were moist and red.

His hands pressed quickly at his eyes, not wanting her to see how weak he was. "I wanted to show you the real me yesterday," he continued with a small breath. "Because I don't want to hide anything from you." He sighed and looked away. "I've come to a decision and I wanted you to know what was inside, Stella. It's what I am inside and I can't change it, not right away." He stopped and took a deep heavy breath as his shoulders sagged desperately before him. "I'd like to take a leap of faith today but I know I can't ask you the same thing."

"I don't understand, Mac. What are you talking about?"

His eyes quickly connected with hers before he looked away again, his lips tight. A long silence lingered between them before he finally spoke again. "You know...I always thought I was cursed..." His voice trailed off. "But when you're with me, I feel blessed." His hand shaved before him and then he rubbed his face, looking away again. "I'm sorry, I don't know if what I'm saying makes a lot of sense. It's just...I..."

"Mac?" she patted his arm and he raised his tired eyes to her.

"I'm sorry Stell. I know I'm taking a risk here with our friendship at stakes, and I'll understand if you prefer we go apart..."

She saw him hesitate. "What are you telling me, Mac?"

He took a deep breath and his hand rubbed his face. "My heart and mind are like those falls, Stell. I'm a wreck." His hand pointed toward the deadly edge. "When I think about you, I'm lost, and I'm so scared to lose you if I reveal too much of me..." He stopped and locked his green, ocean eyes with hers. "You know..." He let out a deep breath and his hand brushed back his hair. "I rehearsed that speech many times, and each time I'm afraid if I say it the wrong way the dream will break and you'll vanish like Claire."

"Mac, I'm not leaving you," she said as her hand gently squeezed his arm to encourage him to continue.

"Claire said the same thing and she's gone now." His eyes connected with hers and she could see his pain soaring through his tormented soul.

"I'm cursed Stella. I wanted to tell you, to show you what I feel because,... because..." he hesitated. "...because when that damned axe fell from the ceiling in that deadly house," he paused. "And then you almost drowned..." He stopped his throat choked by his unbearable pain. "I just can't bear it Stella. I wanted you to know. I know it's selfish as I've taken you 600 miles away from your home to tell you that and to be sure you knew." He sighed and his hand brushed his hair. "I don't need you to answer anything. I just wanted to be far from the office to feel some freedom back, and be sure I'll have the courage to go to the end. Now we can go back when you want…" his voice trailed off as his sight wandered to the ground with pain.

She stepped before him, and her hand softly lifted his chin. "Mac looked at me. What do you mean?" _Please make him tell me it's what I think it is. Please Mac tell me._

His ocean eyed locked with hers with uncertainty. "I don't know how to tell you that without...without maybe creating a rift between us." He sighed deeply. "That's why I didn't tell you why I wanted you to come today. But I know if I don't tell you I'm gonna die because it's killing me inside."

His tone rose and she could see the pain flashing inside his eyes. She looked at him with more anxiety.

"I tried to set you free from my mind; to ignore what I could feel, hoping that you would be happy without...without..." He clenched his teeth. "But I can't ignore it anymore. I know you deserve the best Stella, and I don't pretend someone as wounded and hurt like me fits in that category but I need you. I need you so bad that it hurts to see you everyday and not being able to be there at every second, and being able to pull you closer when you're hurt. It hurt not being able to dry your tears with my fingers, not being just there to hold you and reassure you." He breathed out loudly, his gaze in pain, his hand tight in a fist against his side while the other was rubbing his forehead. He twitched nervously to his side. "I need you so bad I can't think of anyone else that had kept my heart trapped for so long." He stopped and his hand rubbed his face again, trying to slow down his beating heart and get some air. But it didn't work. He was aching all over, and not because of his wounds. No, but because his heart was wrenched in pain at the idea of losing her. But he had to tell her. And the more he was revealing his heart, the more he felt stronger. This was what he should have done from the beginning, he screamed inwardly, cursing his brain and leaving the command to his gut. "I want...I want to be the one you need when you're in pain or happy or anytime of the day. I'll do anything to be that one. I don't know how. I just... I want to keep you safe in my arms and never let you loose." He finally blurted out, heaving heavily.

Her heart hammered in her chest at his amazing confession. She watched as he sighed, and took a deep breath, his eyes connecting with hers. But this time, she could read an unyielding strength gleaming inside them. His hand cupped her right cheek, observing her reaction. She couldn't breathe after all he had said. Was it real? Was he really in front of her. Was it Mac who had said these words she had longed to hear from him?

He gazed at her face, her eyes sparkling with the same look she had given him this morning and when they had played in the water. Slowly, his face came closer, his breath coming in short rasp. His eyes stared at her gleaming emeralds waiting for the moment she would back down, the moment he would have lost her forever. But she didn't move. His heart hammering madly inside his chest he took a step closer and felt his core burning inside him at the warm desire that invaded him. He swallowed the knot in his throat and as his face remained inches of hers, he felt her warm breath tickling his cheek. His brain about to explode from the overload of thoughts and feelings surging inside him, he slowly leaned forward. His lips gently brushed the pulp of hers as their warm breath mixed. His green, gleaming eyes watched hers with intensity as she hadn't moved, he could feel her body vibrating against his chest. His breath in his mouth, his lips pressed against hers in a deep passionate kiss. He heard her moaned softly as his tongue gently parted her lips to find a way to get even closer to her.

Her core burst in flames the moment his lips touched her skin, but as if it wasn't enough, his tongue brushed inside her mouth playing with hers and sucking her breath away. She closed her eyes, her soul carriedin a world of pure delight and pleasure. His left hand slipped into her back, while the other softly caressed her neck. She felt his gentle stroke pressing her against his burning chest. Her arms wrapped around him, and she repeated his move as her tongue went to venture further inside him. She was rewarded by a soft moan of pleasure before they both broke apart in need of air.

His right hand resting in the crook of her neck. He gazed at Stella with all his will. He couldn't believe she had returned his kiss. This was real. She was there alive and he had kissed her and she had liked it, right?

With a smile tugged at her lips, Stella observed Mac. His right hand softly made its way up to her cheek, and his thumb gently stroked her skin. As she locked eyes with him, she knew they had taken a step toward the right direction. He looked suddenly stronger and his heaving chest had changed for a small regular breath. But the most spectacular change was his eyes. The shadow had disappeared, totally vanished from his green, ocean pools. No, now burned a flame she had never seen in his eyes, and when he spoke his voice was unwavering.

"I love you," he said, his eyes locked with hers, observing her reaction. She wasn't moving or speaking, and he knew he should have been worried at her stillness, but he wasn't. He could read her eyes without a doubt now. His gut had been right all along, and thankfully he had stopped listening to his brain. "I love you, Stella Bonasera," he repeated as she was still not moving.

She heard his confession and couldn't believe it was real. _God,_ she had probably looked like a fool but she couldn't move. Even when his face leaned toward hers a second time, she wasn't moving. But the contact of his burning lips pressed against hers suddenly awoke her. And her first sound was a soft moan of joy, when he sucked the air from her breath again. "Mac," she moaned with delight as he broke the contact of their skin, but kept her wrapped in his arms. Her hands lingered to the back of his neck as she pressed his head in the crook of her neck and heard him mumbling her name. "I love you too," she warmly said. With delight she felt his tensed body instantly relaxed against her.

The sun pierced through the canopy over them and winked at them as a friend enjoying two souls that had finally met. Stella closed her eyes, her heart slowing down in her chest. She could hear Mac's heart slowing down too and his slow breathing echoing near her ear. It had taken them a long time to admit their feelings but now that they had found each other, she intended to keep him forever.

Mac shut his eyes and let go the pain that had wrenched his heart for so long. The loneliness and sorrow that had writhed his soul began to slowly fade away. He knew it would take him a long time to be free of all this but now that he had told her, he knew things would be different. It would be better. He took a small breath and lingered in her sweet perfume, his cheek pressed against her soft skin. He had no idea how long they remained like that. Probably a lot, because when they started to move his body was aching as he had been petrified far too long. God, he really had to get some rest, he realized with dread.

Keeping Stella in his arms, he broke the contact of their chests and gazed at her emeralds now bright and gleaming with passion. "I'm sorry it took me so long to tell you that." His lips tight, he could see the emotions battling inside her. Gently, his hand put back a strand of golden curls behind her ear. "I was afraid I would lose you if I..."

"Shh," she whispered as she pressed back her face against his chest. He let out a sigh of relief as he dropped a warm kiss on top of her hair. His finger gently played in her golden curls. "It's okay," she continued. "I thought about telling you, but every time I kinda backed away too."

He lightly chuckled, feeling his anxiety fading away at her words. His chest vibrated against her ear. "I guess we're too much alike." He smirked with a small sigh.

A warm breeze enveloped them as if the forest was speaking to them, gracing them of its blessing. Mac could feel the warm wind gently stroking his flushed cheeks, drying his sweaty skin, and the small inviting humming of the trees mixed with the birds' songs promising them a future together.

"I love you, Stell," he repeated, to be sure he had really said it, and that she wouldn't forget his words.

A smile grazed her lips as her arms tightened around him in a much needed hug. "I love you, Mac Taylor."

He smiled, but as he looked up and through the trees, he knew this weekend was over and soon they should be back home. He patted her arms, before he let her go with regrets, taking a step back. "It's time I bring you back home," he said with remorse in his eyes. He couldn't keep her away from her place if she needed to go back. She might have other things to do, his mind reminded him.

"Well, we have the whole afternoon to go back right?" she asked with a smile. "And I don't want to be anywhere but with you right now," she added as she had read his thoughts.

"I'm glad," he said, his brows rose with a small, charming smile. "What do you have in mind?"

"We can't go back before we have talked. I mean it took us what? Years to come to this point?" She said, her brows rose in expectations of his answer.

He nodded understanding where she was heading. Yes it had taken them a long time.

"Then, let's take our time to go back," she finished, gazing lovingly at his face.

He looked at her with a smile. She was right. It had taken them too long to rush things now because of a question of time. It was true that he was on call first thing in the morning, but he didn't want to bother her with that. And it wasn't few hours of sleep that would hinder his job, especially when he had spent these hours with the love of his life. He would be fine, as long as he was with her anything else didn't really matter. "What do you want to do?" He asked with a warm smile and excited at the perspective of spending time with her as more than friends. He grinned inwardly.

"Well, I'm sure we can find a nice place to get some food inside you," she teased, though it was true. He had eaten a bit this weekend but she wasn't sure he was going to keep the habit when they would be back on the job, might as well take some more before the next week. "And then stopped for a coffee and maybe a dinner. I mean we're kinda late with our dates so we'd better get back on track." She gave him a wink and he grinned back.

"Alright, follow me then." And this time he held his hand for her. He saw with delight as her fingers wrapped around his as he led her back to their bike.

Smiling like two kids in a candy shop, they reached his Harley ten minutes later. Mac sank his helmet on, and smiled as Stella did the same. Swiftly, he rode his bike and waited for his partner to join him. He smiled the minute he felt her body rubbing against him. He bent to turn on the engine and felt a pair of hands sliding under his sweater. _Oh God._ "Stella," he called, his voice strangled by the surge of desire he could feel soaring through his core.

"I'm not sorry, Mac," she replied with a smug face as he turned to her. _Absolutely not._ Now that they had confessed their feelings she was going to enjoy this ride all the way, and knowing now that their feelings were mutual, she knew that he enjoyed it too.

"So it was no accident," he said with an amused tone. He narrowed his eyes with a smirk, almost in disbelief. "You took advantage of me, Bonasera."

"Nope," she replied with a big grin on her face and her eyes sparkling. "What ya want me to say, Mac. Being so close to you and just look, don't touch. Yeah well, it's easy the first day but the next was kinda hard. So give me a break will ya, I'm a woman too."

His smile widened mischievously. "A break? What should I say then?"

Her brows creased. "What ya mean?"

"Oh c'mon, Stell." His brows rose, his eyes pierced through her emeralds with his charming smile. "As if you didn't know the effect you had on me. Especially with your hands here." He grinned, pointing at his stomach.

"Ah so you mean when I do that..." She gently brushed his stomach under his sweater and she felt it retracted slightly, his face blushing. "..you feel it then," she finished with a mischievous grin.

"Exactly what I mean," he mumbled, his voice half cut by the desire growing inside him. His eyes locked with her emeralds and he couldn't move, her smile widening as her fingers softly brushed toward his waist band. _Oh God._ "Stella," he moaned. "You're right, we got to talk."

Her smile spread to her ears as she marveled at the simple touch of her fingers had on him, what then when she could get more under her fingers? She grinned playfully and noticed he was staring at her, his eyes smiling widely.

"I'm, well..." He began. _Gee, Mac focus._ "I'm gonna need to keep my hands,...huh...I mean, my head on the road, Stell," he stammered.

"Alright, I'll behave." She said with a small, playful smile.

He turned satisfied. He slipped his shades on, and felt her hands back snaking around his waistband. He bit his lower lip, and swallowed his mouth dry. His hand squeezed the handles.

"But just a little," she whispered in his ear, as he pulled into the road.

Clenching his jaw from the warm desire growing inside him as her fingers moved softly over his bare skin, he swore he would have his revenge, and this time she would be the one begging him to stop. He smiled mischievously at the idea as the bike joined the main road and they headed to New York.

_**xxx**_

His brain on fire, Mac pulled over at the first nice diner they found on the road. It had taken them only half an hour, but feeling her fingers brushing at his skin like that had turned him on more than once. Carefully, he jumped from the bike and setting his helmet and Stella's hanging around the handle, he gently grabbed her hand. Without asking, he softly pulled her to his chest. Surprised, she looked straight into his eyes as his hand snaked around her neck to draw her face toward his burning lips. He saw a light of expectation and thrill in her eyes before he crushed her lips with a hungry kiss. God, he had wanted to kiss her for so long that every moment spent when his lips were away from her skin turned into a painful ache. After a moment and being sure he had at least heard her moan from his touch, he released her and gently broke their kiss. His whole being was on fire and he wanted to taste more of her lips but he knew it was too soon to go further. He panted softly as she grinned at him, breathing heavily too.

"You," she tried to speak, but her words remained in her throat as her heart was beating madly behind her ears. "You...you, I mean how did you learn to kiss like that?" she finally managed.

He smiled, his brows rose with pride. "You should know we don't do things halfway in the marines." He smirked. "C'mon, let's eat something before my partner gets on me for not eating well."

She smiled as she snaked her arm around his waist and they walked, glued together, toward the restaurant. As the waitress pointed them at a small booth Stella sat and found suddenly Mac sitting beside her, instead of across as they usually did. His thigh softly rubbed hers as he sat and smiled mischievously to her. She frowned, knowing that by his look he was up to something. And a few minutes later after the waitress had brought their orders, she realized she had been right.

Mac glanced at Stella on his left side. He picked inside his lettuce and saw Stella squirming against him. She knew he was up to something, but he didn't mind. Now that he had trapped her against the window, he was preparing his sweet revenge. He grinned inwardly. She had no escape. As she picked inside her food, he extended his left arm over her shoulder and smiled when she looked at him intrigued. Slowly, his hand patting her arm had gently made its way down to the bottom of her top. Trying to hide his mischief, he lay his hand on her hips and felt her lightly jump at his warm touch. _Good._ If she was already reacting like that now, he couldn't imagine how she would behave in a minute. He picked inside his food and chewed slowly as she smiled at him, unaware of the trap he had set for her. Well, she had her fun, so now it was his time to play too, right? His brows rose and he feigned to ignore that his hand had accidentally found its way to the bare skin uncovered by her short top. Her eyes rolled to the side quickly, and he knew she was wondering if he had done it on purpose or not. He smiled to apologize, but when the next minute his fingers lightly brushed her skin and disappeared quickly, she shot him a nervous sight. She looked anxiously around at the restaurant, but he could see her eyes were gleaming at the fire he had set seconds ago.

With quick glances to her sides, her eyes went back to Mac giving her a boyish grin. At first she had thought he hadn't done that, it was a mistake. They were in public place, Mac was too private to do that here. But then, when his fingers brushed a second time her bare skin, she suppressed a shiver and stared at him, her heart beating. He was still smiling as if nothing had happened but this time as she looked closely, she could see mischievous sparkles flashing through his eyes. _Oh God._ He was taking his revenge, she realized, and she was trapped in this restaurant. As to answer to her fear, she felt his warm fingers softly brushing her skin and then pressing over her top. She trembled lightly, her core starting to burn. Why was he doing that? Her mind asked. Why not going straight to her unprotected skin instead of playing like that. And then, her question found an answer as his fingers passed over her skin without touching it. _Oh God,_ she pleaded mentally. She could feel the warmth of his touch but not the touch itself, while the slow brush was setting her on fire and she was hungrily asking for him to go for it. But each time she felt him getting closer, it faded away the next second. She was now shivering each time his fingers approached her but never touched her.

"Mac?" she whispered with a soft moan, not sure she wanted him to stop or to continue. She swallowed back the burning desire he was creating by making her nuts._ Damn it,_ she cursed. She was dying to feel his fingers on her, but each time he was gently resting his hand over her clothes, denying her, his fingers only brushing her bare skin like a warm, delicate breeze. Her heart racing in her chest, and her body on edge, she had hardly made it half way through her salad, when she had to take a deep breath to muffle the moan of pleasure he had provoked.

Mac grinned as Stella was fighting hard not to show her arousal in such a public place. He, himself, was a bit surprise by his daring move, but considering that his frame was hiding anything that she could reveal to the view of others and that only her moans could really attract the attention on them; they were safe, he concluded. It's only after hearing her muffling what should have been a loud moan of pleasure that he realized that maybe he had gone a bit too far. With a sheepish smile, his hand left her back, and he picked inside his meal, knowing that he was due for some major payback after that, but he didn't mind he had his fun too.

She stared at him totally stunned, her emeralds a mix of shock, delight and silent plea for more. But he didn't move, he only gave her a cocky smile and finished his meal, satisfied that everything had worked according to his plan. He grinned inwardly, and after a moment, as they had both finished, he paid.

Her voice in her throat, Stella followed him quietly as they exited the restaurant minutes later. Her legs were shaky and she had to lean toward his side to stay up. _Damned man,_ she cursed with delight. No men had ever turned her on that fast by touching so few of her.

Mac smiled. He was glad he had found another way to make her speechless. His eyes rolled to the sky thanking who ever was in charge for having finally let them find each other. His arm pressed against her shoulders as to keep her steady on her shaky legs, and he couldn't suppress a growing sheepish smile. He led her to the bike, proud of his work. But then, as he sat on his bike and asked her if she was ready to hit the road, her fingers automatically found their way toward his bare stomach, and he knew that the small time he had spent enjoying to tease her was going to last for him. With a small smirk, he looked at the road as he led the bike to his right, and was ready to face whatever she had in store for him. She knew now that he had some means too to overpower her in the future.

_**xxx**_

About half an hour later, he heard her voice calling his name and through the signs her mouth was making in the rear-mirror, he supposed she wanted to stop. They were half way to their destination, and if he was correct they still had at least two good hours before arriving to New York, though he hadn't added the traffic in his count. As he pulled over a small coffee shop at the entrance of small park of a small town, he looked up at the sky. The azure sky was slowly smeared by thin line of white clouds, and the sun was bathing them of his warm yellowish rays of midafternoon. He felt with relief her fingers leaving his stomach but not without a last gentle brush to remind him that she wasn't far from him. He smiled at the playfulness of his partner, and gently accepted her hand as she climbed first from the bike, a wide grin plastered on her face.

Her brows rose with delight as Mac smiled and followed her without even resisting. It seemed they had found a mutual agreement and that their silent bond had grown to a bigger understanding of each of their moves. She smiled broadly, and stopped near the small seller. As they both got their cappuccino, she kept his hand and led him to the park. She wanted this day to last forever, and resisted to the call of their old life as much as she could. She knew of course they both had to work the next day, and even if she loved her job, she just wanted to spend more free time with Mac, and not being preoccupied by the natural stress they would find back there.

As they walked under the shadow of the trees, couples passed by them, and Mac noticed how every time Stella smiled at them, grinning as she had now joined the club. He smiled inwardly. And she was right, they both had joined the club of couples and left their life of loneliness behind them. Though tonight, he was sure it would be hard to go back to his place alone. His lips tight, he pushed the somber thought aside. For the moment he wanted to enjoy every minute he could spend alone with her. Tomorrow, the day would probably keep them apart and busy, and they would have a hard time to just talk to each other. He frowned. _Not now, Mac._ He glanced at Stella and he suddenly lost himself in her smiling eyes as her emeralds shone with teasing sparkles toward him. She snaked her free arm around him, and gently leaned against his chest. His smile grew even more. He loved when she was doing that. It was like she was screaming to the world around that he belonged to her and no one could claim him but her. Yep, he really liked that.

"Mac?" her voice suddenly broke the quiet humming of the wind inside the foliage of the trees.

He couldn't suppress a big smile at the way she pronounced his name. "Stella," he warmly answered back.

"I..." she hesitated, not sure how she could speak about this without hurting him, but they had to. She sighed, and suddenly, he stopped their stroll. His warm hand cupped her chin and he gently lifted her head to lock his eyes with hers. His eyes gleamed with a fierce intensity.

He looked inside her emeralds and he could see her hesitation lurking behind them. "Stella," he began with a soft tone. "We've discovered that our doubts and hesitations have kept us apart for longer than what it should have been. And..." he paused, his sight firm. "I don't want to lose more time by one of us hiding things or wondering if it's alright to say something. I promise you that from now on, I will tell you what lie inside my heart and I will not let it become an obstacle between us. You have my word."

She nodded with a shy smile at his confession. She took a deep breath. "I promise to do the same, Mac." She tightened her lips. But this promise didn't make the things easier for her now.

He winked at her playfully as his thumb gently stroked her cheek. "Whatever it is, Stell. We'll face it together. Okay?"

She nodded and finally found the courage to speak. "Well, I think we should be careful. I mean..."

His smile widened in understanding. He had to admit, at first with her tone, he had thought it was pretty serious but now he knew what she had wanted to say. "You're right," he finished for her. "We should take it slow first."

She smiled back as Mac had been able to understand her trouble. She had spent her whole life alone and had so created her no man policy for her apartment, and honestly even if she wanted to spend more time with him, she wasn't sure she was ready to give up on her freedom so quickly.

He saw her eyes brightening with relief at his words, and he realized that they still had a lot to build for her not to fear to talk to him and his reactions. And unfortunately, he knew it was probably the same for him. His lips tight, he gazed at her. he could understand her reaction. Alone since she was born, unable to give her trust to anyone, she had quickly realized that the only reliable person in her life was her. And realizing that when you're a kid it's tough. You couldn't change like that in a day. He smiled inwardly. He didn't want to push her to do things she wasn't ready to. And if they had to take it slow it didn't matter, as long as she was safe and that now he knew he could ease her pain and be there at anytime, the rest didn't matter.

She sighed deeply. "You...you aren't disappointed? I mean..." It wasn't really about Mac. No she really wanted to be sure that their friendship would be safe, and that it wasn't due to this amazing weekend. She knew Mac. He had been her family since she had met him, her only family since professor P died. And although she knew he wouldn't hurt her like any of her ex boyfriends, she wanted to have the time to discover him in a way they hadn't tried before.

"Stella," he replied with a warm smile, as his hand softly brushed her golden curls and his eyes shaved her face with love. Then, his lips tight, his green, ocean eyes softly rested to her face. "Time doesn't matter as long as we're together."

"Thank you," she whispered softly as she nestled her face to his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her, happy they had been able to talk without hiding anything. He knew that now, things were going to look up for them, it had to be.

_**xxx**_

The sun was down when they finally reached her apartment. The streets of New York were lighted on each side of the road, and although it was past ten, a lot of cars were still wandering through the streets. She smiled widely at the memory of this fantastic weekend and especially today, since they had admitted their feelings for each other. She glanced at her partner as he had slipped off his bike to finally leaned back on it, watching her with that same intensity he had done all day. His helmet hanged around one handle, while the heels of his boots were gently rubbing the curb in front of him as he had crossed his legs. His arms lazily folded before him, she realized he was waiting for her to go inside. She could feel his keen gaze gently penetratingher, always checking to see if she was okay.

She gave him a warm smile as she finally gave him back her helmet and picked up her bag. Her heart wrenched in pain at the thought of leaving him. They had talked a lot at their second pause near a small coffee shop, probably why they were so late now and hadn't had the time to eat dinner. But it had been worth it, and as they had walked in the small park where they had stopped, he had naturally snaked his arm around her waist and gently pulled her against him. They had walked probably for two hours, just talking about their past, about their future and how they were seeing life together.

"Sorry for the dinner," he said, his voice pulling her from her reverie. "I know it's late."

She smiled broadly. "It was worth it. I spent the most amazing weekend of my whole life, thank you."

His eyes lighted at her words. "Then I'm glad."

He frowned as he saw her taking off his old leather jacket. "Keep it," he said warmly, hoping she was going to accept it without thinking that he was trying to make her his propriety, though that she thought he belonged to her wasn't really bugging him. He smiled with satisfaction as she slipped back the jacket on her shoulders and gave him a shy smile.

"Thank you," she mouthed. Her bag at her feet she gazed at his smiling face, his eyes gleaming with playfulness and happy like she had never seen in a while.

"You should go," he said after her long silence. "Can't imagine you sleeping in the street all night," he teased, his eyes sparkling with tenderness.

"Huh," she frowned wondering why the hell she hadn't retreated to her reassuring coccoon yet. And then, the answer appeared before her. The answer smiled and every time, it moved she was looking hungrily at him. She knew she had been the one talking about taking things slowly, but really a place was a place right. They had spent the night under the stars as good friends and seeing how his eyelids were weighing on his eyes she could bet he was tired too. Then, she saw him, straddling his bike, his helmet in hand as he gave her a sheepish smile.

He gazed at her face all the time she was bouncing on her feet on the curb, her eyes observing him. He loved the way her eyes were looking at him with this softness and care that he had only known with Claire. Though he wasn't a fool. Stella wasn't Claire. And he wasn't trying to replace her. No, his heart was beating furiously at each of her loving glances toward him and he knew he was in love. But they had to build this new life on time and he didn't want to rush things with Stella. Hell, he didn't know if he was ready himself. So he slipped over his Harley, ready to leave the minute she would get inside her apartment, but she wasn't leaving. Why can't she go back inside and have a good night? He wondered. It was hard to remain here and not go to wrap his arms around her, but he had to.

"Good night," he finally said, hoping it was the words she was waiting for to take her leave. But instead she didn't make a move, she just stared at him, her frame fixed in time in the small electric yellow light of the street. "See you tomorrow," he muffled with a shy smile, and this time his words made her being alive again.

She took a step toward him and leaned over him. He watched amazed as the electric light of the street was reflected by her emerald orbs, and danced like millions of sparkles. Softly, her lips pressed against his and his entire body was set on fire as her hands snaked around his neck, her fingers playing with the small of his hair, while her kiss was sucking his breath away. Almost out of breath, she stepped back and gave him a mischievous grin.

"You haven't eaten tonight, Mac," she quickly reminded him. "And that's mostly because of me."

He frowned, trying to get his heart rate back to normal. "I...I'll be fine, Stell."

"C'mon in, Mac," she said as her hand rested on his leather jacket.

"I don't want to bother you, it's late, and we both have to work tomorrow." He said, stammering a little. He sure didn't want to bother her, but her offer was tempting and if he hadn't known better with her no man policy, he might have accepted it. But he didn't want her to regret her actions done in the heat of the moment, and after this amazing weekend it really sounded like it.

"I'll order in." She smiled as she gently tugged at the lapel of his leather jacket to drag him inside.

He chuckled lightly at the easiness she could make him do almost anything. "I guess if you ask it like that," he quipped as his hand closed around hers.

Being the same white knight as ever, Stella saw him grabbed her bag as she led him toward her apartment. She wanted to take things slow and knowing Mac's care, she knew they would, but it didn't mean they couldn't have a quiet evening together.

Quietly, they made their way to her apartment. She unlocked the door and Mac pushed it open for her. He glanced back at the empty corridor behind him, and realized all the way they had come to this day. What he had first imagined as a possibility had become a reality and now, he knew he would be able to build a future with Stella by his side. The door closed behind them and he found himself fix in time too, his eyes marveling at the face that smiled at him as he had immobilized them both in the hall. Slowly, she stepped closer of him, questions in her eyes.

Stella watched as a growing smile spread over Mac's lips, and before she knew it, she heard the bags dropped to the floor and he had captured her in his arms. She grinned at the simplicity they had come to linger in each other's arms.

His arms tightened around her and his hand danced in her soft, golden curls. Gently, he pressed her head against his cheek and closed his eyes. "I love you," he whispered in her ear, his head resting in the crook of her neck as he let go his fears and doubts.

She felt him lightly trembling in her arms, but she knew that now it wasn't because of his nightmare, no he was happy and was finally letting go his inner demons. The road for them would probably be bumpy, but they would face it together.

Slowly, he raised his head and locked his green, ocean eyes with her emeralds. His warm fingers traced invisible lines over her forehead and gently followed the line of her cheek and jaw. Forever he would stand by her, forever she would be able to hold on to him without regret or doubts, forever he would be there for her, no matter what. "I love you more than life itself," he whispered to her ear, and he felt her vibrated at his words. "Hold on to me, Stella. I promise I'll be the one."

Her eyes gleamed at the sweet promise he had made. She knew he was the one. Even without his words, she had known that she wanted no one else. With a warm smile she let her heart speak. "I'll stand by you, Mac. Forever."

His arms tightened around her with love and they both knew that they had found each other. Their quest was over, and a new shining path was opening for them. Soon life would bring them back to the harsh reality of their work, but this time, they would face it with more than their friendship; they would face it with their love.

Outside, the quiet night was grazed by a warm breeze that dangled the lonely helmets hanging at both handles of a solitary Harley. Slowly, their lonely swings made them slid toward the middle of the handle. Finally joined together, they abandoned their solitary dance for a slow rock together.

_**The End

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**A/N:**Well, I hope you liked that ending, so please leave your thoughts about it, thanks. :)

Also I thought about doing a sequel, but this time Mac and Stella would have to deal with a real difficult case, while facing their team and bad guys. Meaning, drama, whumps and of course fluffy hot Smacked. What do you think? Should I write a sequel? :)


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